


The Defiling

by Silver_Birch



Series: Defiling/Reviving [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Cock Piercing, Corruption, Destruction of Innocence, Dungeons, Eventual happy ending (for some), Evil Plans, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Freudian nightmares, Humiliation, Incest, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orc Culture, Orc family bonding, Orc happy families, Psycho orcs, Psychological Torture, Rape, Rescue Missions, Sadism, Torture, Twisted love, Violence, dark side, the line of durin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:59:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Birch/pseuds/Silver_Birch
Summary: Azog the Defiler’s defiling days are certainly not over, not as long as Thorin Oakenshield and his heirs remain alive and uncorrupted. But that could all soon change. After Azog’s cruel young niece informs him of an ancient lore that can permit the parasitical impregnation of males hosts, Azog’s defiling day are back in full swing as he kidnaps Fili and Kili and makes it his pleasure to inflict as much pain, degradation and sorrow on them as his vile mind can imagine and their bodies can endure. A sadistic tale of bondage, torture, rape and graphic violence – this is a story not in any way suitable for minors, sensitive types, or anyone else who is blessed with good taste and/or moral decency. Consider yourselves warned!!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned before, this is a sick and twisted story with themes of violence, sexual abuse (including rape), and general all-round evil. However, my sources indicate that 100% of the fictional characters abused in this nasty little tale remain unharmed, as they don't actually exist. But you do, and your feelings ARE real. So please:
> 
> 1\. This story is in no way suitable or intended for minors. Kids, go away and run free. You do not want to read this and risk turning out like me, I assure you!
> 
> 2\. Anyone with any sensitivities or objections to the above mentioned themes, do yourself a favour and skip on reading this.
> 
> 3\. Do not try any of these evil activities/schemes/plans at home. I do not recommend adopting lifestyles, behaviours or viewpoints of any of the characters in this story. The evil activities depicted here are ILLEGAL in most jurisdictions worldwide.
> 
> 4\. Do not come crying to me later when you've decided this story is deranged, and expect me to give a shit. Yes - yes, it is (see point 2 above).
> 
> 5\. CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND EXPLICIT SEXUAL VIOLENCE (just to reiterate...)!
> 
>  
> 
> Now if after reading all of these warnings, you still feel the urge to press ahead, then congratulations (or commiserations?) - the dark side awaits you...!

**Azog**

In the dank, humid evening air, Azog the Defiler stretched out on his balcony chair and took in the view with a glass of cold-filtered lager. The night-flies were buzzing all around the fragrant swamps leading upto his moat, the vampire bats were flocking to the becalmed, stagnant waterways for their evening feed, and from the top of his keep he had a pleasant view of the barren mountains of Dol Guldur stretching like claws far into the distance.

All was well with the world.

He took a sip of the delicious, frothy beer, and felt the weight on his shoulders lift for a second. But as he scanned the trackways to the north, he thought he could see movement.

He frowned, and realised that a messenger on wargback was fast approaching the swamplands, and wondered immediately whether the rider was bringing any news on his Erebor project.

Hopefully those dumb dwarves had found their way into that lost kingdom at last, opened the gates to their vaults, and were finally sitting ripe for the plucking. Azog had gone to great lengths to lay the trail of breadcrumbs that would lead them – and him – to the Erebor gold. Long years he had planned, and calculated, and manipulated, and long years he had been frustrated at their pathetic lack of progress – until the last few months anyway.

And even then, those stupid twats had needed the help of that stinking old wizard, Gandalf the Grey, in order to hear about the ‘secret doorway’ he’d mapped out for them. And once they’d handily slaughtered the dragon for him, their gold would become his gold.

God, they were thick.

He took a sip of the beer and waved with his bladed half-arm to the messenger, fast approaching the gates. He could see the orcish rider was female from the way her hips swayed elegantly on the warg, and recognised his young niece Sulga at once.

The eldest daughter of his brother Bollog, Sulga was an extremely talented and vicious young warrior, widely regarded as a promising candidate to replace Azog himself in the field when he decided he’d had his fill of strategy and planning. And those days were fast approaching – he was getting on in age after all, and planned to spend a good few years tending to his swamp and maiming, killing and torturing the local peasantry without the added pressure of command. He hoped Sulga would one day fill that role in his fearsome army, and allow him to slink off to his dungeons for longer periods of happy torment.

He saw his niece pause at the main door, waiting for access so she could climb to his chambers, and took another sip of lager, pondering what could have made her ride all this way.

“Uncle, greetings from Mirkwood.”

Sulga arrived and came strutting over to the balcony, and flung a pair of severed elf heads at his feet. At least, he assumed the creatures had been elves – the skin was charred and melted, but nothing could disguise the pointy ears of that particular strain of vermin.

It was a thoughtful gift.

“And what brings you to these parts, Sulga? I thought you were busy marshalling those new recruits from the Goblin King?”

She fixed him with a beady black eye, and smirked at his question.

“I found this pair fleeing a skirmish on the outskirts of Mirkwood. We think they were making for the Grey Havens, hoping to ride out west. But I sent them way out west.”

She laughed at her own joke, and Azog couldn’t help but admire the way her scarred bosoms jiggled around in her tight leather jerkin as she did so. His niece was a rare beauty as well as everything else. Her chalky white skin and pouting black lips had brought her many admirers, and he knew her sexual appetite was as ferocious as her blood-lust.

He eyed up her travelling gear and wondered. She’d not bothered to cover herself up properly, and had chosen to ride over here in her thigh-high black boots and miniature skirt – revealing a lot of bare flesh to his roving eyes. Maybe she was on heat right now, and had come to pleasure him.

He licked his lips at the thought.

“But why are they burnt, Sulga? You know it’s better to see their death-gaze if I’m to mount these on the wall with the others?”

His niece waved her hand in dismissal.

“These elves were carrying some old books, but they were written in their own filthy language so I couldn’t read the words. I had to flay the male before the elf-wench broke and agreed to translate them for me. It took me an hour! So naturally, I had them burnt living afterwards. Stuck-up elf pricks!”

Azog nodded calmly, impressed by his niece’s cruelty. But she still had a lot to learn when it came to the breaking process – she was far too hot-headed and violent.

“Sulga, my dear. I know you enjoy these wanton maimings. But you really should consider a more subtle approach. You could have brought me these elves whole and living, and we could have broken them together in the dungeons over some beer and snacks.” He raised his eyebrows at his niece, and stared right at her full bosom, hoping she would take the hint and strip off for him.

But her face was full of evil glee.

“Dear uncle, that’s why I’ve come round.” She placed a hand on her hip and wiggled over to him suggestively.

“The filthy elf book contained some ancient lore about our race – and I thought you could find use for these old secrets in your spare time.”

Her words intrigued him, despite the promise of her flesh, and Azog sipped his beer. He nodded at her to continue.

“I know you like all your psychological torments, and I thought you would like to know the book described a method for impregnating males of other races with orc-seed.”  
She let her eyes trail over her uncle’s rippled body, and lingered on his loincloth for a moment.

“Not real impregnation, naturally. It’s more like a parasitical infestation. But the host species can be conquered by the enchanted orc-seed, so the male host is forced to bear an orc-child.”

Azog nearly spat out his beer.

“What? How did I not know about this?” He had enjoyed his petty torments of the local women often enough – and sometimes that involved them getting pregnant and producing half-breed orclings for his armies.

But males? That would be something else entirely. Something unspeakably horrible for the victim to endure.

And it gave him a massive chubby hard-on just thinking about it.

He pondered for a moment, and Sulga nodded appreciatively, understanding the way her uncle’s depraved mind worked all too well.

“So when you say male host, what are we talking about here?”

His niece grinned, revealing her sharp pointy teeth behind the thin black lips.

“Elves for one – probably why the pair were so desperate to keep it a dirty little secret. And men too, of course. Even dwarves, so the book said.”

“Dwarves?” Azog sat back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. “And what does this procedure involve, my dear? Do tell all.”

Sulga strolled brazenly across to him on the balcony, taking a swig of beer from his glass and looking him in the eye. She stood before him, allowing her uncle to smell the heat coming up from her skin, and the sweet stench from her flesh, and sat on his knee.

He could feel the squidgy fat mass of her bare butt cheeks on his leg, and knew he was going to have his way with her soon. But first, he wanted to hear this story.

“Well, uncle. If a mummy orc and a daddy orc fuck, and the nasty mummy orc takes an infusion of Bright of the Waning Moon afterwards, then a live orc seed is flushed out from her body at her next bloodshedding.” She wiggled her ass on her uncle’s knee at the word bloodshedding, and Azog found himself picturing all kinds of delightful gore.

“The wannabe daddy orc must then drink the blood from the she-orc’s cunt, and then his seed shall become infused with the charm, so that in a matter of days...” she trailed off and pressed her clammy hand against his bare chest.

“The daddy orc shall be able to impregnate the sorry male host with the orcling. He can simply be taken in the normal way, and within days...” She smiled at her uncle, and whispered something utterly filthy into his ear.

Azog’s mind was suddenly alive with evil possibilities.

“We should do it,” he grunted, and smacked his niece on her hip, indicating she should assume the position. And most obligingly, she poured herself onto all fours and reared her ass up at him.

With a grunt of satisfaction, he slid his greasy cock inside his niece’s wet slit, and heard her moan in delight. His tool was large – even by orc standards – and her moans only increased in pitch as he pumped her hard and fast.

But as lovely as his niece’s slimy cunt was, the picture in Azog’s mind returned to the dwarves of Erebor.

To his old enemy, Thorin Oakenshield, and his horrible fucking family.

He would show them. For ages, he’d wanted only their complete and utter annihilation, but now a more dreadful and cruel sport was taking shape in his mind, and it involved Oakenshield’s pretty young nephews and his giant orc cock.

Sulga grunted in pain as he fucked her like a beast, and Azog raked his nails down the flesh on her back. Bright trails of blood dripped from her pale skin, and with his good hand he fumbled at her bosom. He pulled and tugged at the rigid nipples, determined to make her scream for mercy before he came.

And in a flood of delight, he pumped a full load of evil seed into his whore niece’s box, filling her up with his gummy ooze and making her bark with pleasure like the bitch she was.

But as he blitzed her quivering body, only one word escaped from his lips.

“Oakenshield...”, he rasped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog goes dwarf-bagging in the Raven Hill tower (kind of like in the films, but worse).

**Azog**

  
Azog stood back in the shadows, trying to keep his massive grey body from the trace of afternoon sun that dared illuminate the Raven Hill tower. Whatever species of cretin had built this crumbling heap had certainly not had nine foot high orcs in mind during the design stage.

But not to worry, everything was going swimmingly.

He’d laid his trap well – plodding old Oakenshield was nothing if not predictable, and the two young dwarf scouts whose presence he required for his evil plan were on their way already, climbing the stairs on the floors below, walking right into his clutches like a pair of patsies.

It was all so easy. And it concerned him. He wanted everything to be just right, to carefully and properly set the tone for what he meant these dwarves to endure. They had to be scared upon arrival into his lair, but to have experienced no real physical damage.

That would come later, when he had them fully under his power and there was no possibility of rescue or release.

And then, and only then, would he let their blood flow and push their bodies to the ultimate limits of pain and degradation.

He heard a noise on the stairs, disturbing his bloody reveries, and saw the first of Oakenshield’s nephews had made it to the top floor.

The blonde one, all alone.

He was carrying a sword, and Azog could tell by the muscular arms and the delicate way he carried himself despite its obvious weight, that he knew how to swing it. He must not be given a chance to use it – if his capture descended into a fight then it was all too likely that Azog would have to hurt him, and he didn’t want to spoil the young dwarf’s meat by over-salting it too soon – to use an analogy his old father had been fond of saying.

Before Oakenshield had murdered him.

The huge white orc narrowed his eyes at the young dwarf, and vowed that he would suffer in blood for what his accursed family had done.

The young fool was coming close now, tentatively stepping forward with watchful eyes, and Azog waited for the moment when the dwarf would edge past the missing section of the wall where he lurked. Another step, and the dwarf would be within reach.

Another step. And another.

Just one more step now.

And then suddenly, the little blonde dwarf was beside him, still unseeing of the orc, and still unaware of the danger he was now in. Azog stood right behind him, and stretched out a hand to lightly touch the wavy blonde hair, radiant like gold in the sunlight, and felt the familiar buzz of capture making his head giddy.

As quick as a flash, his clawed hand grabbed at the small wrist where the dwarf held his sword, twisting it nastily between the bones, and the blonde spun round in fright – far too late to prevent himself from dropping the shiny steel weapon.

Azog heard it fall to the floor with a clank, and for a split-second the dwarf stood staring up at him with wide blue eyes, as if he couldn’t quite understand what he was really seeing before him in the hallway.

The orc stared back, studying his prey in the moment’s pause.

The eyes were a delicate and clear shade of blue, like the summer sky on a cloudless day, and Azog thought the face they belonged to was very handsome too – more fragile than the average dwarf. The blonde hair had been swept into several plaited sections, and the young warrior even sported braids at the sides of his mouth, neatly maintained with care and fastened in small bronze clasps.

The overall appearance suggested pride, self respect, discipline, and goodness.

All virtues that Azog would strip away in no time.

The dwarf’s small mouth opened in surprise, and Azog felt his skinny wrist try to break free of the controlling grip. Whatever else, he could not be allowed to alert his brother now to the danger, or the second dwarf might escape his clutches!

Without thinking, the great white orc cracked his head down squarely at the dwarf, butting his forehead so hard that the blonde fell to the ground unconscious before he could so much as scream.

Well, that had been unexpectedly easy.

And with a triumphant grin, Azog gestured into the shadows towards his waiting soldiers in the nearby room, and motioned for them to tend to the fallen dwarf. Two of them appeared, and dragged the little blonde away by the feet.

The pale orc stared after him with longing. Already, he could feel his excitement building as his eyes scanned the blonde dwarf’s firm young body, partially hidden by his fine suit of armour.

“Strip his armour, remove the outer clothes and boots, then have him bound, gagged, and readied for his cage.”

Azog had prepared suitable transport for his prisoners, and he knew it would be an experience unpleasant in the extreme for both of them.

But first he had to catch the second dwarf.

He trained his ears back in the direction of the stairs, and surely enough, he could hear small steps making their way slowly up the staircase.

Hidden back in the shadows now, Azog watched as the dark haired brother appeared at the end of the hallway, concern knotting his fine features.

“Fili?” The dwarf took a step closer to the orc in the hallway, obviously calling to his brother. “Fili, where are you?”

This one looked more nervous than the other had been – and less confident in his weaponry. The sword hand shook slightly as he held the blade aloft, and Azog wondered whether it was not his natural choice of arms, or whether he was afraid.

“Fili, please!”

Azog wondered how to handle this, and decided the element of surprise was now unnecessary – the dwarf was close enough for him to capture now, and even if he did scream, well, it wouldn’t be enough to save either him or his brother.

He swept regally out of his hiding place, and stood tall before the young dwarf.

“What the – ?” The young dwarf’s brown eyes lit up with alarm. “Who are you?”

The distance between the two of them was little more than three yards, and Azog closed it easily  
before his prey had time to even react.

“I’m your worst nightmare.” He grinned down at the little brunette, and smacked the sword out of the dwarf’s hand.

The dark-haired brother flinched.

“Where’s my brother? What have you done with him? What are you – ”

But Azog was already wrapping his claws around the young dwarf’s neck, choking the breath out of him with ease.

“Shut up and see for yourself.”

Dragging the darker dwarf after himself, he strolled back towards the room where his soldiers were finishing tending to the blonde.

The brunette tried to sway and kick to escape him, but it was no use. Azog was far too strong for such a small person to match – not without a weapon at least.

Upon seeing his brother bound and unconscious on the stone floor, panic obviously seized the brunette’s silly young mind, and he struggled as hard as he could against the pale orc’s iron grip.

Azog laughed at his efforts, feeling a surge of power run through his body at the sight of the pretty young dwarf’s obvious fear.

This one was just as beautiful as the other, he could see that now. His face was more graceful, more feminine, more innocent, but full of lively intelligence and kindness. He had no adornments in his long hair, nor any sign yet of a beard, and Azog guessed he was the younger of the two.

It was something to bear in mind for later.

Azog shoved the dwarf roughly towards his soldiers, and the little creature fell hard against the floor.

“Prepare this one too, and ready the bats. I want them out of here in five minutes, before Oakenshield or the rest of his friends start meddling.”

The small grey orcs pawed at the young brunette, tearing at his expensive armour, and throwing the gilded metals into a pile next to his brother’s discarded items.

The young dwarf cried out in fright as one cuffed him in the face.

“What are you going to do to us?” His brown eyes were frozen with fear, and Azog could see the pallor rising in his cheeks as panic took him. “What bats?”

Good question, thought Azog. You must be the brains of the operation here. Not like your idiot brother.

But the great pale orc chose to ignore the dwarf’s insolent question, and instead strode over to the blonde.

The soldiers had done a good job of readying him. The dwarf was clad only in a light cotton bodysuit – no doubt some kind of stupid dwarf undergarment – but it was tight on him and left little to the imagination in the way of his bulging anatomy.

Azog crouched beside him, and put a hand to the dwarf’s face, feeling the warm outflow of breath from the blonde’s lips and tracing his clawed hand gently down the prettily freckled skin.

“Leave him alone!”

The brunette was shouting angrily at him now, kicking with his legs and flailing around, trying his hardest to escape the eight orc hands that had him beaten and helpless.

Azog ignored him still.

Instead, he raced his hand down the blonde’s toned, hardened body, taking in the athletic musculature, softly rising ribcage, and chiselled stomach, before rubbing at the softer body parts outlined under the flimsy cotton at the dwarf’s crotch.

Azog felt his own parts hardening at the feel of the dwarf’s tender meat.

He checked and noted the size and girth of the blonde’s limp, warm organ, and felt the rounded pair of spongy testes through the light fabric, heavy and firm to his knowing fingers.

Perhaps this dwarf was even a virgin – most of them were at this age – and had never even known a lover’s touch before. Never known the rapture and solace of a trusted lover’s gentle body.

And now he never would.

How joyous, how wonderful it would be to be the first to show him how much shame and pain his body could bring him.

How satisfying it would be to break his body, and his mind.

How pleasing it would be to fill him with seed and defile him utterly.

He cupped the small testes, fantasising about taking them both and squeezing them until they burst in a bloody mess in the palm of his hand, as he had sometimes done to attractive male playthings of his who’d displeased him.

And maybe the dark-haired brother understood something of his intentions at that moment, because he shrieked in rage and disgust at the molestation of his brother.

“Take your hands off him, do you hear me? Leave him alone!”

Smiling, the pale orc motioned towards his soldiers.

“Gag that one, he cries like a little girl.”

And still smiling, he strode over to the dark brother, glaring up at him from where he now lay on the floor, stripped to his thermal cotton layers and with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“I wonder if he likes to be fucked like a girl too?”

The words had an immediate, chilling effect on the young dwarf and he suddenly stared at the floor, where his brother lay, his shoulders heaving. But not a word escaped his lips.

One of the soldiers behind him took the opportunity to wrap a ball-gag around the brunette’s face, and though a slight struggle ensued, the little dwarf emerged voiceless and muzzled like a dog.

“Excellent. Now put them in storage.”

From a darkened corner, one of his minions produced two small mesh cages. There was very little room in either of them – not even enough room for a small hobbit to lie or sit comfortably. The brothers would be cramped, squeezed, and folded into them, and would remain unable to move or turn around for the whole time they were caged. And with a thick sackcloth cover placed over each box, nobody could ever see what the contents were and be tempted to free the suffering souls within.

It was all perfect for an introduction to the physical pain they would soon come to know. And the transportation plan for the pair was equally ingenious.

Azog had borrowed two magnificent specimens of giant white bat from his good friend, Gorog the Grinder, who bred them in the shadowlands on the Mordor border. Both bats were specially fitted with harnesses which could carry the precious cargo, and both bats were trained and instructed to fly directly to Azog’s balcony, and thereby wait to be unloaded.

Azog reckoned the bats’ flight-time to his lair would be around twelve hours, but it would take him and his soldiers at least two and a half days to return home overland.

By the time he reached the dwarf brothers, the pair of them would already be greatly weakened – suffering from thirst, hunger, and from the horrible pain of being unable to move freely, or breath easily – stuck in a darkened cage with no ability to speak, no way to know where they were, utterly helpless and afraid...

It turned him on just thinking about their suffering.

And once they were unloaded things would only get worse for them.

Seeing the second dwarf was now fully ready, Azog motioned to a cage.

“Put him in, and load them up. We need to go. Now.”

Seeing the tiny cage he was about to be thrust in, the brunette had another lease of energy and tried frantically to struggle free. Perhaps he was aware that this was his last chance of escape from whatever dark fate awaited him. But if so, then it was more to the pity, because Azog’s soldiers easily bundled him inside the tiny prison, despite his noisy grunts and protestations.

Azog regarded him dispassionately, seeing how his legs were wrapped over his stomach and he could barely breath now he was fully trapped and caged. The dwarf’s face was a picture of terror as the box was lifted, and dropped into a sack.

A soldier went to fold the blonde, but Azog stopped him with a wave. He picked up a couple of sharp stones from the floor of the hall, and arranged them around the dwarf’s groin, before folding his legs up tightly over them.

The soldier smiled nastily at the idea, and slid the blonde into his cage.

No doubt the blonde would wake soon, with no idea what had happened or where he was, desperately uncomfortable and unable to move – and with jagging, painful spines sticking cruelly into his tender genitals for the whole time he was trapped, hurting more with every beat of the bat’s wings.

Azog licked his lips, watching as the blonde’s box was wrapped in sackcloth and tied for security.

The two boxes were then strapped onto the huge white bats that waited under the fallen wall of the wind-ravaged room, and took to the skies immediately. Their long wings lifted high on the updrafting currents, and Azog bid them depart with a salute from his bladed half-arm.

“Let’s take the back steps, and avoid Oakenshield.”

The pale orc stole a glance down the passageway, making sure it was clear.

“We wouldn’t want to have to kill him before our plan is complete.”

He eyed the dwarves’ armour, piled up in the middle of the room, and nodded to one of his servants. The thin-faced orc fished inside a leather carrying pouch, and topped the pile with the sealed parchment that Azog had drafted earlier.

His message to Oakenshield.

How he wished he could be there to see his enemy’s face when he read it. But if everything worked out, he would get to see better sights soon enough.

The dwarf cargo was en route at last!

Azog reached a hand down to his groin, shifting his swollen member from chafing the strap of his loincloth.

Soon, he promised his throbbing cock.

Soon you shall play with those pretties...

And soon they will know what it means to be _Defiled_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog now has Thorin Oakenshield's nephews in his scaly clutches back in his swampy paradise lair, and doesn't Thorin know it.

**Bilbo**

“No, it _can’t_ be!”

The hobbit was just a pace or so behind the dwarf-lord as they searched the upper floor, but he steeled himself at Thorin’s outburst. Whatever had been found, it wasn’t good.

But they’d only been gone ten minutes. What could have happened to them in that time?

He stepped through the doorway, but instead of the bodies he’d expected to find piled in the room, there was only a heap of armour. Nothing more. No sign of Fili and Kili, but –

“It’s _their_ armour.”

Thorin turned to him with a fearful expression, and the sight of the dwarf’s face chilled the little hobbit’s breath. The dwarf-lord was scared, Bilbo realised. He hadn’t thought Thorin was even capable of fear.

“But... why would they take their armour off?”

The little hobbit stared around, wondering where his friends had hidden themselves.

But the dwarf-lord had already found the letter. He held it aloft, showing Bilbo the red-wax seal and shaking his head.

“I know that seal.”

The dwarf-lord’s voice was choked.

The little hobbit stared at the handsome rolled manuscript, wondering how something so small and pretty could have such a terrible effect on his friend.

“Open it, Thorin. What does it say?”

With a grunt of pain, the dwarf-lord broke the seal on the paper, and unfurled it.

And within seconds, he was collapsing on the floor, his knees buckling under him.

“No!”

His voice was a strangled cry, and the hobbit ran to him in alarm, trying to support his lover.

He clasped the dwarf-lord’s hand, though his fingers were almost crushed under the weight of Thorin’s grip, and scanned the dwarvish runes on the paper.

He couldn’t read the characters, but it seemed to him that the shapes held a dark and sinister meaning that leapt off the page regardless. And in those black and twisted shapes, he could see only evil and despair. The doom of his friends, as clear as if it had been written in their blood.

He heard his partner weep, and felt his chest tighten.

“Where are Fili and Kili?”

His voice was thin and tinny, and he realised before he’d even asked that he didn’t want to know the answer. And yet somehow, horribly, he already knew...

Thorin was staring up at him, his blue eyes dazed and unseeing, and his face twisted in grief.

“He _has_ them, Bilbo. The Defiler. He has Fili and Kili!”

The dwarf-lord gave a howl of rage and despair, that echoed round the empty rooms of the tower, and bounced between the hobbit’s ears in a mad dance of agony...

“Oh, shit.”

It was all the little hobbit could think of to say.

 

  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Azog**

 

After a hard couple of days in the saddle, Azog was overjoyed to see the gloomy heights of his tall keep jutting up from the swamplands. The sight of the tower seemed to him to look like a giant stone erection, a promise of what waited for him inside the cells, and a reminder that his aching member needed relief.

And as he looked up to the top of his balcony, he spied the two giant bats waiting on the walls beside his chambers as planned. Everything should run smoothly now – unless by some cruel twist of fate one of the dwarfs had died in transit – and so his hideous design for the two pretty princes was as good as unstoppable.

He jumped off his hairy steed, and immediately climbed the steps to the tower, trusting in his entourage to stable the wargs and attend to him upstairs as they’d been told.

Grogor’s bats were indeed on the balcony, and sure enough, both canvas-clad boxes were intact on their backs. Azog almost skipped with delight as he saw them, and came running over to unload the beasts at once, his servant orcs scrambling to keep up, their arms loaded with heavy slabs of manflesh to feed the weary hauliers.

Azog scratched one of the marvellous bats behind the ears, and nodded approvingly when it hissed at him.

“Easy, my pretty. Your payment is coming.”

He turned to the first box, and unstrapped the fastener so it could be unloaded. He wanted to look inside immediately, to check its prisoner was still living, but he had planned for the dwarves to be as disorientated as possible when their vision was returned. He didn’t want them to get a glimpse of where they were. It would only give them ideas about escaping.

It would only give them hope.

“Bring them to the cell, immediately. I will _uncover_ them myself down there.”

He was sure his attendants heard the quiver of excitement in his voice, but he knew they would understand. And if they were lucky, maybe even in the next few days they could assist him in attending to the dwarves themselves, or at least they could watch the torment and enjoy the screaming...

Making his way down the stairs, his mind buzzed with all the wonderful tortures he had planned for these two young fools.

But first things first. First their physical condition had to be assessed, and then the schedule could take shape from there. Three days was a long time to do without water – it would possibly even kill a man or elf – and while dwarves were usually hardier, they would certainly not be at their peak.

He waltzed into the candlelit cell he’d had equipped for them, deep in the subterranean floor of the lair’s dungeons, and eyed the twin pairs of manacles and took in the dank, aromatic smell of sewage and rotten vegetation that seeped into the lower floors from his swamp.

The spyhole was there too – the one he’d had installed in the corner, so that whoever lurked unseen in the small chamber behind the wall could see and hear everything the prisoners did.

It was delightful. It was perfect.

But would they be?

Behind him, a wrinkly old orc dumped the two boxes unceremoniously on the dusty stone floor, and shuffled aside, leaving the way clear for his master to remove the covers and finally examine his prizes.

He lifted the canvas cover off the first box, and took in the sight.

Like a small animal, crouched in fear, the muzzled blonde dwarf was wide awake now – staring up at him with big blue eyes, frozen in glassy fright. His body was contorted and twisted inside the cage. He looked like he’d taken a few hits against the mesh mid-flight, as a pair of purple bruises mottled the skin around his eyes and his cheek was grazed and bleeding.

Beautiful.

Azog barked at the servant in Orcish.

“Release him.”

The attendant moved towards the cage, and slid the lock free on the top panel. He half dragged, half yanked the dwarf out, and dropped him on the floor with a crash.

The black ball-gag was unstrapped from the back of his head, and the dwarf gasped for breath at its removal.

Azog smiled down at the little blonde, seeing him sway with delirium on the stone floor.

“On your feet, dwarf.”

He had used the Common Tongue this time, and the dwarf jerked his head up to look at him, then seemed to swoon in fright. Azog was worried he would faint, and bent over to better explain.

He smacked the blonde hard across the cheek with the flat of his palm, loving the way the sound reverberated around the interior of the cell. Really, the acoustics in here were great – a full credit to Azog’s father, who’d designed the schema for the whole castle and built it as a labour of love for his enjoyment of cruelty.

And it would sound even better if the blonde screamed.

“On your feet, or the next time will be harder.”

The dwarf’s eyes gazed back at him almost lazily, and Azog was sure he could see a look of contempt cloud over those blue eyes. There was an air of insolence as the dwarf finally rose, and it was a momentary challenge for him not to knock him to the floor with a good, hard punch.

“What is your name, dwarf?”

The creature glared at him – he was sure of it – and rolled his eyes back sullenly.

“I am Fili. Son of Dis.” He eyeballed the cell with some disgust. “Who are you? What do you want with me?”

Azog chuckled to himself. The dwarf evidently thought he was alone.

“With _you_?” The great orc reared tall over the little dwarf on the floor, hoping to cow him with a display of his enormous size. But the blonde continued to stare back at his captor with that infuriating, sour face, and the orc smiled.

He was impressed, in spite of himself. Most prisoners, when they saw him, fell about themselves pleading for release. The dwarves among them too.

But not this one.

“I want a good many things from you, _Fili_ , son of _Dis_. Your screams, your torment, your suffering.” He paused for effect, but the dwarf didn’t flinch. “And I shall get them too. I have my ways, even for proud royal princes like yourself.”

At this the dwarf’s face slipped somewhat, and Azog felt a warm glow spread through his chest at the sight of the first signs of concern in the pretty blonde.

“Oh yes, I know well who you are. Who your family are. What they did to mine.”

He glared down at the blonde, and waved his bladed half-arm in front of the dwarf’s face. The sight of the cold shiny metal made the little creature look at the floor, and when his gaze switched back to Azog there was fresh doubt there.

“That’s right, _Fili_ , son of Dis. You know who I am, don’t you?”

The blonde met his eyes and nodded slowly. His eyes drifted back to the bladed-hand, and Azog recognised the look of fear that the dwarf was struggling so admirably to conceal.

“You are Azog. The Defiler.”

The little blonde glared back at him, and his sudden anger seemed real.

“What are you going to do with me?”

The pale orc looked down at his quarry, and smiled.

“Firstly, I’m going to have you restrained.”

He snapped his fingers at his servant, and the old orc hobbled over and grabbed at the blonde. And for all the dwarf’s amusing efforts, he was far too weak to withstand the strong, wiry grey arms, and found himself being dragged to the wall and his hands shackled in irons.

Azog watched the dwarf’s face fall as the metal cuffs were sealed around his wrists, chaining them to the wall above his head as he lay half-sprawled on the floor. He was weakened, and thirsty – Azog could hear it in the dwarf’s strained voice. And he was afraid, even though he tried not to show it.

As well he should be.

“And then, _Fili_ , son of _Dis_ , I am going to explain a few truths to you here. You know what I am. You know what I do. And so you must have your own thoughts about what I want with you?” He bent down, so his face was right in front of the blonde’s.

So close he was now, he could smell the stale sweat of the dwarf’s body, and the sour tang of the shallow, dry breath that fell from his trembling lips.

“What do _you_ think I’m going to do to you?”

He met the wide blue eyes, and dared them to state the obvious truth that the two of them well knew.

The dwarf met his gaze.

“You’ll torture me. Just like you did my grandfather.” The blue eyed stare failed for a second, and then returned with a new defiance. “You’ll want my uncle to know all about it – so you can get your revenge.”

The dwarf’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“And then you’ll kill me.”

His voice was soft, almost sad, but his eyes remained hard and cold when they returned to glare at Azog.

The pale orc nodded gently, meeting the dwarf’s eyes with a smile.

“Your death, that’s right.” His voice was crooning, and almost sensual. “It’s coming, Fili, son of Dis. And by the time death claims you, you will wish it had arrived much sooner.”

He stood up. It was time to put this arrogant youth in his place.

“And as for revenge. You speak of your grandfather, to me – I who lost a father by your uncle’s hand! A father who was an orc king, no less!”

The dwarf stared bitterly back at him.

“My grandfather was also a king.”

The pale orc nodded.

“Yes, he was.” Azog felt his face darken.

“And I destroyed him, right here in this keep. I did it slowly, piece by piece, scream by scream. Just as I will destroy you, your worthless uncle, and your fool brother.”

At his words, the blonde dwarf’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

“You know as well as I do, _Fili_ , son of _Dis_ , that I deserve my revenge. And that revenge is reason enough for you to be here. You – _and_ your wretched brother!”

The blonde’s eyes widened, and he stared at the orc in disbelief.

“No. You haven’t!”

Azog raised his eyebrows to the corner, and let the dumb young blonde follow his eyes to the corner of the room, where the other covered box sat unwrapped beside the servant. Azog nodded to him.

“No! Not Kili!”

But the cage was already falling through the cover, and strands of long, dark hair could be seen poking through the metal bars as the sad, gagged face of the younger dwarf appeared into view. He’d been able to hear every word, and shook his head slightly at his brother as the blonde let out an anguished wail.

It was music to Azog’s ears.

All the blonde’s bravado was exposed for the bluff it was, now that he realised his brother was in the same bind.

“Kili, no! Oh let him out, please. Let him out!”

Azog snapped his fingers, and the servant released the brunette from his cage. Still muzzled, he was dragged to the wall beside his brother, and similarly manacled.

The pale orc strode over and crouched before the young brunette.

The silly creature tried to stare defiantly back as his brother had, but the big brown eyes were already tearing up, and his breaths were coming fast through his nose as he tried to fight back the sobs.

Azog reached his clawed hand out to the dwarf’s face, and stroked his cheek tenderly. The skin was so soft and dewy – there was no trace of hair or stubble – yet the face was that of an adult, not a youngling. It was marvellously smooth, pale in colour and marred only by the dark circles under the eyes and the drawn look of fear.

Such beautiful skin was made for flaying surely. Maybe when he was finished with this one, he could be gifted to Sulga as a thank you, and she could fashion the hide into some nice riding gloves.

Azog felt the dwarf’s nervousness and sighed deeply. The aroma of fear coming from the brunette was intoxicating, and he wanted to inhale it all.

Deliberately, he traced his hand round the back of the dwarf’s head, feeling the thick silky hair tickle at his skin as he felt for the fastenings. And like the expert he was, he released the dwarf’s muzzle and let it fall to the floor.

The dwarf’s lips were trembling, more so than his brother’s had been – this one could not hide it. It made Azog feel rather sensual, and playful.

He moved his big grey head close in front of the dwarf’s, and saw the confusion on the brunette’s face. Saw his lower lip wobble again. Smelled his fear, and tension.

And like a generous lover, Azog leaned forward and kissed the dwarf’s lips.

The brunette gave a weak cry of disgust, and tried to pull away, but Azog had anticipated his manoeuvre.

And there was nowhere for him to go.

He felt the dryness of the dwarf’s lips, and licked them with his big black tongue. Then wiggled the tongue inside the dwarf’s little mouth, forcing it all the way inside, so he could take in the full taste of the young prince’s flesh and saliva.

“What are you _doing_?”

Azog could hear the blonde dwarf shrieking beside him, and recognised shock and disgust in his cries. They just excited him further, and Azog allowed his hand to drift lower down the brunette dwarf’s body.

He examined the skinny, hollow chest and felt the dwarf’s rapid heartbeat through the thin undergarment. This one was obviously not as well disciplined as his brother – or not as naturally athletic. There was something artistic about this one, perhaps. Something ill suited to the rigours of combat. Whatever it was, he would find out when he chose to interrogate this creature.

He would find out all their secrets. All to use against them.

As he groped at the brunette’s chest, he felt his cock begin to harden under the loincloth, and wondered how far he should go with them today. It was true he had wanted to make them wait, but his member was stiff, and sore, and both of them were his already.

All he had to do was hold them against the wall and give in to his desires...

He let his clawed hand slide to the dwarf’s belly, and cupped at its softness. The dwarf squirmed under his touch, and gurgled something – but Azog’s tongue still probed the inside of his mouth, blocking him from protesting too clearly.

Azog felt his way lower, and found what he wanted.

This dwarf’s dick was longer than his brother’s – longer, and softer. There wasn’t a hint of hardness in it, despite how Azog pulled and teased it.

Maybe the brunette was shy. Maybe he needed something else to get him in the mood.

His cock remained soft, and in frustration, Azog squeezed it brutishly.

He pulled away and stood up with a grunt.

These dwarves could wait. He’d already shown them what he expected from them both – and once he’d shown them the pains of the flesh too, perhaps they would understand that his kind caresses were to be enjoyed.

The brunette leaned forward and dry retched, obviously unappreciative of all of his caring efforts. The blonde was just staring at him, his mouth hanging open slightly, but no words coming out.

Azog saw his look and laughed.

“Why do you think they call me the _Defiler_?”

He crouched down beside the blonde.

“What do you think I’m going to do to your _brother_ , Fili, son of Dis?”

The blonde still stared at him, his eyes as wide as could be, unblinking.

“What do you think, Fili, son of Dis, that I’m going to do to _you_?” He licked his lips slowly, and clutched his huge hand over the blonde’s knee, giving it a deliberate squeeze.

The dwarf blinked.

“Again. And again. And again?”

The blonde closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, and the pale orc laughed in triumph.

He smacked the blonde across the face, harder than before, and listened for the echo reverb off the walls.

And this time the brunette cried out.

“I will leave you two to get comfortable after the rigours of your journey. But have no fear, my little playthings, I will come for you soon and we can get much better acquainted.”

He could feel the two pairs of eyes staring in blank horror at him as he stepped happily through the thick cell door, and knew he’d hit his mark. The two idiots were only now starting to realise what their entrapment meant, and that was good – he wanted to give them some time to reflect on it, before he had his way with them.

Their fear and anticipation would soften them up, and make their screams come faster when he took them.

And as the servant scurried out behind him, rattled the key in the lock, and hung it up on the hook beside the cell door, he wondered which one to take first, and how.

It was an important choice, and one he should possibly discuss with his niece. Only one could be impregnated on the first attempt after all, and he wanted to make the right choice to ensure maximum distress for the pair of them.

Who would get hideously fucked, and who would get to watch?

But already, he knew in his heart which one he most wanted to master.

And so Azog walked stiffly down the corridor, dreaming of those wide blue eyes and how lovely they would look as they suffered under his torments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write the ending of this whole thing right now, and there are a couple of ways I could go with it. Decisions, decisions!
> 
> I could go for the relatively happy ending, or the twisted dark ending, or even something kind of in the middle?
> 
> But then again, I am generally crap at making decisions, so I may just write two endings, and leave the choice of being nice or nasty down to any reader's individual conscience (or lack thereof)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog’s demented niece eavesdrops on her captives’ private conversations and indulges in some role-play.

**Sulga**

  
She sat in the shadows in the hidden chamber, listening in to the chatter of the two prisoners.

She’d been very quiet on entry, and was being very good and quiet now – her uncle had told her to be careful. The plan was to listen to the pair speaking freely, to get to know the relationship between them, and to use this information to break that bond. To tear them both apart in the process.

At least, that was her uncle’s plan, anyway.

If it had been up to her, she would have been removing the blonde one’s fingernails after his high-handed insolence – and then his fingers too! Or beating the brunette’s creamy skin bloody with her lovely scourge...

But she had been told to wait, to follow her uncle’s plan, and so she had to sit here – listening to them twitter on in that awful fucking language.

_Khuzdul._

It wasn’t as bad as the smug tones of High Elvish, that was true – but she could barely remember the verbal conjugations as it was, and now these pricks were here in her uncle’s cell, prattling away in their over-accented speech, and she’d had to try and remember all her fucking orcling grammar lessons!

Khuzdul fucking cunts.

She would make them suffer for this. She would cut out their dwarf tongues, at the first chance she got, so she never had to hear another agglutinated adverb-noun construction again.

Scowling, she stared through the spyhole in hatred.

The blonde one was speaking, trying to comfort the brunette.

This she could hear even without her middling Khuzdul proficiency. But her linguistics gave the lie to his words. For his words were out-of-synch with the way his face and body spoke, and mismatched further with the emotions that he tried he hide.

He was telling the brunette that it would be all alright, and not to worry.

Lies. All obvious lies.

You didn’t need to know Khuzdul to see the fear on their faces, or the blind panic lurking behind every word.

“ – and you know that Thorin will never stop looking for us, Kili! He won’t. He’d travel across the whole of Middle Earth to find us, and get us back.”

“But _he_ won’t let us go, not for all the gold in Erebor! _He_ wants revenge, Fili. _He_ wants to hurt us. Even if Thorin comes here, it’s not about gold.”

The young brunette banged his head against the wall and sat back in despair.

“He wants to hurt us. And there’s nothing we can do to stop him! We’re stuck, Fili. We’re doomed!”

His voice trailed off in anguish, and Sulga chuckled to herself. At least this one seemed to have a good grasp of their situation. She liked his downbeat sense of realism.

She studied his face, seeing the high cheekbones, and the soft brown eyes, big and beautiful like a baby deer.

Yes, this one was her favourite. She would stake her claim to this one’s bones, and try to tear herself a piece of him before her uncle was finished.

The blonde one was thinking in silence, studying the stone slabs on the floor.

“Kili, I want to you to listen to me. I want you to promise me something.”

The brunette closed his eyes and sighed.

“What? What do you think we can do?”

The blonde looked hard at his brother, trying to get him to meet his gaze.

“Look at me, Kili. Listen to me.”

The brunette stared over, hopelessness in his eyes.

“What?”

The blonde one swallowed.

“They’ll come for us soon, Kili. They’ll hurt us – you’re right. And we can’t stop it, not now. Not yet.”  
  
He shook his head at his brother, sending the blonde braids flailing into the dirty wall behind his head.

“But who knows what could happen later, Kili. You mustn’t give up! Don’t ever give up.”

The brunette smiled without mirth.

“Because our uncle will come riding to the rescue and – ”

“I don’t know what will happen, Kili!”

Sulga raised her eyebrows at the blonde’s sudden outburst, and his idiocy. If he truly didn’t know now, then he was a fool. Even the dungeon rats knew what would happen to those chained up in here.

She eyed his torso through the slit in the wall, seeing the muscles, recognising him as another warrior, just like herself. And just like her uncle.

He would do better with this one, she concluded. All his silly psychological games would be better spent on this nippy blonde. And as long as the brunette was left to her, she would play whatever role she was given to help her uncle’s plan along.

“ – we’ll probably be dead by then!”

The brunette’s voice was rising into a wail, arguing back against his brother’s attempts at comfort. And the blonde was unhappy too.

“No, we won’t be.”

The blonde’s voice almost choked in a sob, and for a second Sulga stared at him, wondering if he was going to crack then and there. But to her disappointment, he checked himself and carried on.

“He’ll keep us alive, for as long as he can, Kili. He’ll do things – _horrible_ things – but he won’t kill us.”

The brunette was silent, staring at the floor.

“You need to promise me, Kili. Promise me now – that you’ll do whatever they ask you to.”

The brunette stared at his brother in confusion.

“I don’t want to give them the satisfaction, Fili – it’s better to die with some dignity left than – ”

“No. It’s not.”

The blonde one was shaking his head again, and all the pretty braids in his hair went spinning around.

“You do what they say, Kili. You let them take it out on me. Do you understand?”

The brunette was shaking his head now, his eyes tearing up.

“But – ”

“I’m _telling_ you, Kili. We went to battle, I’m your captain, and it’s an order.”

“But you’re my _brother_ , Fili. I can’t sit back and watch them hurt you, I couldn’t – ”

“You can.” The blonde was staring at his brother, his blue eyes fierce. “And you will. I’m your _older_ brother, Kili. And one day, I’ll be your king. So you do what I say.”

Sulga’s ears pricked up. She’d suspected the brunette was the younger of the pair, of course, but now she knew.

And that the blonde was this Oakenshield’s heir.

Interesting.

The brunette was crying now. She could see the trickles of water sliding down his stony face. But he was quiet, at least. And for that she was glad – she hated the crybabies. It made her lose her rag, and if she lost her rag, they’d end up dead far too soon.

“What would you have me do then, _captain_?”

The blonde one was still staring.

“Give them what they want, Kili. Do what they want – and tell them what they want. Don’t try and hold back. Don’t give them any reason to hurt you!”

The brunette shook his head.

“And just let them take it out on _you_?”

“I don’t care, Kili. I don’t _care_ about what they do to me, as long as you’re not suffering it, do you understand me?”

The brunette sobbed.

“But I can’t let them – ”

The blonde lost his patience.

“I said I’d look after you! I said I’d _protect_ you, Kili! Don’t let me fail you, not now. Not _here_!”

The brunette said nothing, and Sulga heard him sniff. Trying to still his tears out of shame, no doubt. What a fucking baby!

“But... who’s going to look after you, Fili?”

The blonde shook his head.

“I can look after myself. Whatever they do, I can take it. Just promise me. Promise me that you’ll do as I say!”

The brunette stared into the distance, almost right at the spyhole where Sulga sat watching him, but he didn’t see her. He could see nothing but misery.

“I promise, Fili.”

He turned and glared at his brother.

“Are you happy now?”

The blonde tried to deliberately lift his hands, emphasising his helplessness in the manacles.

“No? But I’m _happier_ than I was.” He shut his eyes. “And that will have to do for now, Kili. Until our uncle gets here, that’s all we have.”

The brunette made no reply, and the pair of them sat in silence, contemplating their horrible situation now they’d made their pointless pact.

Sulga got to her feet, and left the chamber quietly.

She’d seen enough, and it was time to enact the second phase of the plan, before she could report back to her uncle and let the real fun begin.

The she-orc picked up the tattered woman’s dress from the hook by the cell door, and pulled it over her head.

It was a little small for her – her bosoms hung out over the low-cut collar, and the dress revealed too much flesh on her back. The young woman who had once owned it had been a tavern-whore, one with astoundingly poor judgement in her clientele, and now her dress lived on in the dungeons, whereas she did not.

Sulga fluffed up her matted black hair, and hoped neither dwarf would notice her warrior tattoos, visible under the hemline if one cared to look at her ankles.

And with an affected stoop, she picked up a jug of water that she’d left by the door, and jingled the key in the lock with deliberate noise.

The two dwarves tensed up as she entered, eyeing her warily.

 _They think I’ve come to torture them_ , she thought happily. _And in a way, they’re right._

She pretended to shuffle into the cell, her eyes downcast and timid, and held aloft the water jug.

And that certainly got their attention.

“The master bids you drink this, he wants you to be comfortable while you stay with us.”

She took a sip of the water jug with her blackened lips to show them it was good, and sat it down on the floor between them. Neither of them could reach it with their hands bound to the wall, of course, but Sulga wanted to see what they’d do.

The blonde one was first to react. His eyes implored her.

“My friend, we cannot reach it. I beg you, would you help my brother take a drink?”

The brunette stared at the jug, and as she moved towards it, he nodded his encouragement.

“Please. I’m so thirsty.”

Against her better urges, Sulga lowered herself to the jug and held it to the brunette’s mouth. He drank greedily, and she took the chance to carefully regard him up close.

His hair was dark and shiny, matching his dark eyelashes and solemn eyes. Beneath his outer smell of campfires and sweat, she noticed the sweet youthful smell of his flesh and the health of his features. She almost wanted to trace her knife down his cheek just now, to ruin that pretty face of his and mark him as hers, but her uncle had insisted.

So she had to play these games instead.

The dwarf continued to drink, and Sulga finally moved the jug away. There was hardly any water now, so great had been his thirst.

He gave a groan of displeasure as the water was removed, and she shook her head in reproach.

“There’s not much left, and this is all you’ll get ‘till tomorrow.”

She stepped towards the blonde, and crouched down, letting him drink what was left.

There was barely anything to give him.

“Please, lift it higher.”

“There’s nothing in it.”

The blue eyes locked on hers with desperation.

“Please, would you fetch some more for us?”

She stood up crossly.

“I can’t be doing you no favours. The master will hear. And I’ll get another flogging.”

Sulga turned and let the dwarves see the scourge marks down the upper portion of her white back. No doubt fools such as these would take them to be the hallmarks of abuse, but in fact Sulga had relished earning every single one of her scars. She liked to take it as rough as she gave it.

However else would she learn to correctly inflict pain on others?

The blonde tried to steel his gaze and hide his disappointment. He’d hardly drank in three days now, and the smell of the water had only increased his need.

But that’s what these people got for being so nice to each other.

The high-minded fools.

She turned away from the blonde is disgust, hoping he had not seen her look. She regarded the brunette instead.

He was scanning her scarred back, obviously unnerved by the sight of it.

“Who did that to you?”

Sulga shrugged, warming to her character now.

“My father. He’s the dungeon-keeper here. He gets told what to do by the master, and then he tells me what to do. But sometimes, I thought it was unfair – what he said to do. So I disobeyed him.”

She stuck her lips out, like a sulky child.

“But my father would always find out, and he’d flog me. Last time I couldn’t sit down for a week.”

She watched the dwarves carefully, wondering if they’d buy it. Neither of them seemed to disbelieve, so she crouched down to their level again, and whispered.

“This isn’t a good place, you know. I’m sorry you’re both here.”

The blonde frowned slightly, and she wondered whether he was suspicious. But his brother looked at her hopefully.

“Could you get us out? Could you...would you, _help_ us?”

Sulga almost laughed, so eager was the shine in his puppy-like eyes. Maybe she could have some fun with this!

She shook her head quickly, and pursed her lips.

“I can’t do nothing for you, and that’s the truth.”

She scanned their faces, trying to squeeze her face muscles into an expression that might pass as sympathy.

“But I can tell you stuff, if you want. For all the good it’ll do you.”

The blonde nodded, seeming to take her at her word.

“How many guards are there? And where are we? I mean, where is _this_?” His hands shrugged in their manacles, sending the chains clanking off the stone wall.

Sulga thought.

“There are twenty guards, night and day, in the dungeons alone. And the same number of servants upstairs for the master. They come in shifts, from the local village. Don’t s’pose a pair of gentlefolk like you will have ever heard of Saltmarsh, will you?”

The blonde nodded, his face frowning.

“I know of it. Is that where we are now? Saltmarsh?”

Sulga nodded.

“About three miles away from it, on its western swamp.” She scowled at him. “There’s nothing around here for days after that. I don’t know where you lads have come from, but you’re far away from wherever it was.”

The brunette met her eyes, and again she was struck by the innocence she saw there.

“What is your name, my lady?”

She cocked her head to the side, caught off-guard by the civility in his question. Of all the stupid things to ask!

“My name is Sulga.”

She saw no reason to lie, after all. And then, thinking, she added.

“What is your name? Names, I mean.”

The brunette smiled at her. It was a very slight smile, but it was definitely there.

“My name is Kili. Son of Dis.”

He gestured to the blonde, who eyed him back doubtfully.

“And this is my brother, Fili.”

Sulga wondered what they expected of her. She cared not for their names. Their names would soon be forgotten, irrelevant – worthless even to themselves, the minute they were both introduced to the pain that was waiting for them.

Their names would be whatever she and her uncle chose them to be. Flogging. Flaying. Burning. Breaking.

Whelping.

Their names had no meaning, even now. They just didn’t realise it yet.

But instead, she nodded in response as a village wench might do.

“Kili, Fili. I’m sorry we have to meet here like this. Sorry for you.”

The smile left the brunette’s face at that, and she saw the fear returning to his eyes.

“What does he want with us, Sulga? What will he do?”

She let her guard drop, and stared openly at his face. The fear made him beautiful, and the flirtatious question he’d so innocently asked of her made her want to hurt him here and now. Nobody could stop her. And he’d still stare at her with those big brown eyes, even while he begged her to stop...

She blinked.

“I don’t know. He does many things. But I do know this.”

She saw the two of them were hanging on her every word, horribly captivated by the dark promise in her voice.

She met their eyes directly. The brunette seemed to crave some good news.

“You’ll be dead within a week. Nobody lasts longer than that in here. And when he kills you, it’ll be worse than anything you can think of. Crushing, skinning, boiling. I seen some horrible stuff in here.”

The brunette’s head dropped to his chest, as if she’d physically hit him.

She watched him for a second, considering. Maybe her uncle was right after all about this psychological stuff. It was making her wet just watching his face as she toyed with him. It was like having his heart in the palm of her hand to play with at will.

The power to make him happy. And the power to make him die.

She crouched down, faking a furtive glance at the door as if she was about to reveal a great secret.

“But I can help, when the time comes. I can give you some herbs. To lessen the pain. But that’s all I can do.”

The blonde was watching her closely, she realised. She’d barely noticed him, she’d been so focused on the big brown eyes of his brother.

“Could you get a message to our uncle? From Saltmarsh?”

The blue eyes were pleading with her.

“He’s very rich. There would be gold in it for you. All you’d have to do is tell him where we are.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know who your uncle is. And they’d mount my head on a pole for even trying.”

But the blonde was undeterred.

“His name is Oakenshield. Thorin Oakenshield. He’s the King under the Mountain, the King of Erebor! You must have heard of Erebor?”

She shook her head again, and his face fell.

“I never been beyond Saltmarsh, never heard of no Erebor.”

“But perhaps someone else in the town might know of him? Please try, I beg you!”

She narrowed her eyes, and wondered why he had such faith in his uncle. If she was somehow stupidly taken as someone’s prisoner, her uncle would be mortified with shame and would curse her very name into the dirt. He would hardly be interested in buying her back from the clutches of his enemies – what kind of cretins were these dwarves?

Sentimental fools!

Too stupid to see that their faith in each other made them weak!

She pretended to demure.

“I will ask around. When I go to the market tomorrow. But I make no promises.”

The blonde nodded quickly, and bit his lip.

“Thank you so much. Thank you! I’ll be forever in your debt!”

The brunette stared at her with renewed hope.

“Sulga, please try. If we get out of here, we can take you with us. You can be free in Erebor, and start a new life. You’d be safe with us there. Just think about it, please.”

To her surprise, she could see no guile or lies on the young dwarf’s face. It was as if he truly believed that she could run away with them both, to their uncle’s promised land, and start afresh with them both as her new companions. All her sins and depravities forgotten and forgiven. Or unknown about, at least.

And to her shock, in her own blackened heart something stirred.

Maybe he wasn’t lying. Maybe she could... start again.

Maybe this dwarf would take her as his lover of his own free will, and she could be free of this craving for pain and suffering at last.

It was a frightening idea.

Horrible, really.

She picked up the water jug, and moved towards the door in haste, nodding.

“I will try.”

And then she was leaving them. Leaving them locked in the cell before the big brown eyes could beg at her with another plea or make those terrible promises to her again.

She had to get out of there.

She saw a guard, on her way down the corridor, and he clocked her in the dress with a raised eyebrow.

Laughing, she pulled the dress over her head and fixed him with a stare, holding the jug out to him.

“Fill this with water.”

She thought of the big brown eyes, and how to win them over, and her voice was firm.

“Let the dwarf prisoners drink, make sure both of them get their fill. And tell them Sulga sends it.”

The guard nodded in surprise, curious about her uncharacteristic benevolence, and the she-orc marched down the corridor, wondering the very same thing herself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the ‘introductory’ kind of chapters. Next week, the story will take a bit of a darker turn and Uncle Azog will get his rocks off at last, so this is your seven day warning claxon for impending violence and depravity...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin decides to rally the troops for a rescue attempt of his favourite nephews, while Azog goes a bit ‘Ramsay Snow’ with his favourite prisoners and his favourite rack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some rather disturbing elements in this chapter, concerning the deliberate torture and sexual abuse of helpless characters. So please don’t read this if you might find these topics distressing, or overly stomach-churning! 
> 
> If you do read, then be aware that it gets a bit worse later on in the chapter, so please just stop if it gets too rough at any point.

**Bilbo**

  
It was dark in the meeting hall, despite the golden lanterns and flaming white candles the dwarves had set all around. Nothing could lift the gloom from the table, not even the fact they were sitting once again in Erebor, after all the long years.

Not now.

Not with the knowledge of what the true cost of their venture had been.

Thorin had just read them Azog’s letter.

The little hobbit stared around at the stunned faces of his friends, and wondered whether Thorin had even heard the question he’d been asked.

Balin cleared his throat gently, trying to regain the dwarf-lord’s attention.

“We cannot let this happen, Thorin. We _must_ do something! What is your plan?”

Thorin stared back at the letter, his eyes dull.

“Dain will not help us. He will not risk his troops to save my kinsmen. We have no army, Balin. I do not know what I can do!”

Bilbo heard the rising panic in his friend’s voice, and steadied the dwarf-lord’s arm with his hand. It troubled him greatly seeing Thorin’s distress, and he couldn’t imagine what would happen to his lover should the Defiler enact his wicked plan on those lads.

On Fili and Kili.

He pictured them both, laughing and joking with him on their voyage East.

They were his friends.

They’d shielded him from the disapproval of the others right from the start, offered him their hands when he’d stumbled on the road though the dark and rainy nights, shared their food with him when he was hungry and cold. They’d made him feel like part of the company. They’d helped him find his place.

And now they needed his help.

How could he leave them to this awful fate?

How could he let the others leave them to this vile degradation?

The hobbit glanced around, seeing the despair fall on the dwarves’ faces, one by one, as they considered their helplessness.

Bilbo shook his head.

“If Dain will not help, then we must find other allies who will, Thorin.”

The dwarves looked at him in surprise. Maybe they thought he’d spoken out of turn, or maybe they heard the strange resolution in his voice, he wasn’t sure. But they all stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

He squeezed the dwarf-lord’s arm.

“Send a message to the elves, Thorin. Send a message to the men from Laketown. They stood with you earlier in battle, and maybe for this they will stand with you again.”

Thorin stared at him hopelessly.

“The elves and menfolk despise us, Bilbo. Why should they risk their lives for my kin, when Dain will not?”

The little hobbit nodded at his friend.

“Because you will ask them to, Thorin. And you will not take no for an answer. If the orcs get away with this, then the elves and men will only be next – we all need each other’s help.”

The hobbit shook his head in disgust.

“Write to them, write to them now. Offer them all the gold they want, offer them anything. We will not lose Fili and Kili to this. We will not sit here and take this!”

The mood at the table shifted. The dwarves were considering.

And finally Thorin nodded.

There was new determination in his eyes.

“I will do everything I can. I will not stop until they are home. Without them, all of Erebor means nothing to me. Bring me my pen, and our fastest ravens. I will write to the others, and seek their help.”

The little hobbit nodded in approval, and felt the nerves in his stomach tighten. He wished he could somehow let his friends know, wherever they were, whatever they were going through, that they were not forgotten. Wished he could give them strength, and hope, to resist and stay strong in all the dark hours that awaited them.

They would not be abandoned.

_Hang on, don’t give up. We’re coming for you._

He just hoped it would not be too late...

  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Azog**

  
The day broke grey and dour, with trails of wet mist rising from the swamps around the keep, and flocks of fanged birds swooping to catch the early morning blood-flies as they hatched on the mud flats.

It was a glorious day, and one Azog had been dreaming of for a long time.

Finally, his day of reckoning had arrived, and the mere thought of what awaited made his cock stiffen in grinding anticipation.

He’d spoken to Sulga last night, and they’d shared findings about the prisoners. It had pleased him greatly to discover that she was warming to the psychological cruelty he’d devised – and that she’d agreed with his choice of dwarf. Great minds indeed!

She’d told him the dwarves had been watered – although they were surely weak from hunger and still stiff from their travel-cages. And she’d filled him in on the blonde one’s protective promise to his brother.

So he’d decided to split them apart, for a while. To play them against each other, and initiate the painful process of breaking their small bodies down, piece by piece, until they could be cracked and split asunder in mind and spirit too.

He waddled downstairs, enjoying the loincloth’s rubbing on his semi-hard prick, and made his way to the main torture chamber.

The orc guards smiled cheerily as he approached the room, saluting him and waiting for his command. He could feel their excitement building with his own.

“Fetch me the dark haired dwarf, the one they call Kili.”

He strode into the chamber, and admired the array of fine, sharp tools that lined the shelves. The great collection of gags, restraints, and blindfolds that hung on hooks around the walls. And the huge, powerful machineries of pain that stood tall in the centre of the chamber itself.

The rollers were built of mature oak wood, and the levers made of a fine bluish steel – set and smelted by an old dwarf prisoner of his father’s, a long time ago. How fitting and right that such an instrument should be used to terrorise Oakenshield’s pretty young heirs, here and now, for his own vengeful enjoyment.

Azog heard the guards returning, and turned to watch the prisoner as he was brought before the rack.

The two orcs flanked the dwarf as he was marched inside, his hands tied loosely before him in a knot that also looped around his neck, dangling down in a leash that the more senior orc presented to his master.

The little brunette was still dressed in his ridiculous undergarments, clinging to his contours and leaving little to the imagination, and the pale orc wondered whether to have him stripped, here and now.

He wanted to see the dwarf’s meat, and touch his bare skin, and watch it stretch firm on the rack.

But he didn’t fully trust himself to stick to the plan if he gave in so quickly to such base urges.

Azog took the rope, watching as the dwarf’s eyes flicked nervously up and down the wooden gears, paddles and cogs that made up the fearsome instrument.

The dwarf knew what it was, what it did.

And his fear was palpable.

Azog yanked on the rope leash and brought the dwarf skidding to his knees, gasping for breath. But still his eyes were fixed on the huge gears of the machinery, the big brown eyes glazed with horror.

“Good morning, _Kili_ , son of _Dis_.”

The pale orc leered down at his prisoner, admiring the way the youth’s little body had begun to tremble. So exquisitely beautiful, and his torture had not yet begun!

“I trust that you know what this is. It’s been in my family for a long time – my father had it made and it’s been in constant use. And as a matter of fact, your own grandfather experienced its _pleasures_ many a time.”

He bent low so he could stare into the dwarf’s dark eyes, breaking their view of the machine.

“His limbs made a lovely sound as they were torn from their sockets.”

He reached his clawed hand onto the dwarf’s shoulder, feeling the shaking flesh, and kneaded his fingers around the edge of the youth’s skinny joint, exploring the strength.

“I bet yours will break before his did.”

The dwarf gasped, and closed his eyes. And when he spoke, his voice was shaky and uneven.

“What do you want from me? I can’t tell you anything! I don’t _know_ anything.”

Azog stared at the creamy skin, and the way the dwarf’s lips pouted as they sucked in their shallow breaths. He was beautiful, it was true. But he was ready to give himself away so soon, and he wasn’t even screaming yet. It was a waste – a disappointment.

But it would serve as a warm-up.

“You little fool,” Azog cradled the dwarf’s face in his hand, lifting the chin up to the candlelight to admire the shadows on the high cheekbones.

“I want to hear you scream, that’s all. You and your brother. I don’t expect a young princeling like yourself to know the secrets of Oakenshield’s undoing! Your screams will do that all by themselves.”

He stood, and motioned to the rack.

“Strap him up. And have the machine set at 45 degree tilt, gear number three.”

Azog strutted over to the shelf and found a bottle of chilled beer, waiting for him as requested by the comfy chair. It was still early in the morning, but what the hell? It was a special day and he was worth it.

“Because I’m worth it,” he mouthed under his breath, smiling at the foamy beer as it hissed in the glass.

He settled back in the chair, and watched as the dwarf’s hands and feet were bound to the panels on the huge rollers, his small body fixed in position between the gears. It really was a glorious machine – it could be calibrated to accommodate any kind of victim, no matter their height, weight or build.

And no matter their mental resilience, in the end it broke them all.

“Crank her up, lads.”

The dwarf’s brown eyes fixed on him in terror, pleading with him to stop, as the rollers suddenly ground into action and the little dwarf found his body being pulled taut by the panels.

It wasn’t a high enough setting to cause him any real pain, Azog had already figured. He didn’t want to actually damage his prisoners just yet – the threats were merely for effect. He wanted to scare this dwarf, to make the rest of the process easier. He needed his lithe little body intact, for what would come next.

But the rack was working its magic already.

The dwarf closed his eyes, his breathing shallow and panicked, and cried out in despair.

Azog smiled.

“That is setting three, Kili, son of Dis. The dial goes all the way up to twenty, although your body would be torn apart far lower than that.”

He took a sip of his beer, enjoying the frothy sensation in his mouth, and feeling a stab of pleasure in his groin as he eyed the dwarf’s helpless body. He wished he had stripped the youth now, so he could watch that skinny chest rise and fall as the fear turned him over – he was sure if he looked hard enough, he’d be able to see the dwarf’s heart fluttering under the skin of his chest.

No matter.

He took another sip of beer.

“I am going to ask you a series of questions, Kili, son of Dis – and I will know when you are lying. If you do lie, I will have the machine set higher. Do you understand?”

The dwarf opened his eyes and nodded in misery.

“Good. Then we shall begin. The first question is – are you a virgin, Kili, son of Dis?”

The dwarf’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What? No.”

Azog nodded thoughtfully.

“Explain.”

The dwarf was shocked.

“Why?”

The pale orc sighed, but he was prepared to be patient with this one. The creature’s emotions were something which would be subdued in good time, and for now Azog just wanted to get to know more about his little captives.

“You heard the question. Tell me about your loss of virginity, Kili, son of Dis. And don’t lie to me.”

The dwarf stared at the pale orc and the two guards, taking a deep breath. He obviously found the question distasteful.

“It was two years ago, in the Blue Mountains. That summer, I met an elf. I liked her, and she liked me too.”

He stared at the floor, as if wondering what more could be said.

“She was on a trip, visiting a village near my home. And one day, she took me to the woods on the mountainside, and she...took me under the bushes.”

Azog considered. Many of the elf wenches were randy old sows, he could testify to that. They always acted like they were so fucking pure, but given half the chance of a good shag, they’d have their knickers round their ankles in no time. No doubt this elf-whore had taken spiteful glee in popping a dwarf prince’s cherry.

“Did she know you were a prince?”

The dwarf looked up sharply.

“What do you mean?”

Azog shrugged.

“I mean, was she only fucking you because of who your uncle is? Was she getting off on sullying the prince of an enemy people?”

The dwarf looked insulted.

“No! She said she liked me. She said she’d come back for me, next time she was in the Blue Mountains, and we could be together...”

Azog snorted.

“And did she come back?”

The dwarf thought.

“No. But I’ve been away from there for a year now, travelling. Maybe she’s been looking for me. Maybe she’s waiting for me, back _home_...”

The dwarf’s voice trailed off as his thoughts turned to the distant land where he’d grown up. A far cry from the horrible surrounds he now found himself in, no doubt.

The pale orc chortled, sipping on his beer.

“That’s right, I’m sure it was pure true love. Now, question number two – and I want you to think carefully before you answer this time. Is your _brother_ a virgin?”

The dwarf’s expression darkened. He did not like the direction these questions were going in, it was obvious. But what could he do, strapped to a rack, nice and tight, at the mercy of his master’s wishes?

He opened his mouth to speak, his expression sullen.

“I don’t know.”

Azog smiled thinly.

“You’re lying. You do know.”

The dwarf glared at him in defiance.

“No, I don’t! My brother doesn’t tell me _everything_ , you now. You’d have to ask him!”

Azog nodded.

“Oh, I will ask him. I will ask him the same questions as you, and then some. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have lied to me, because you _do_ know the answer to this. Just as you know what I promised to do if you lied.”

Anxiety came flooding back to the dwarf’s face.

“No, please!”

But Azog was already nodding to his guards, and they were already cranking up the gear. The machine groaned as the rollers moved further apart, and the little dwarf cried as his limbs were pulled tighter.

The pale orc closed his eyes to the wonderful sound and considered. There was still plenty of slack left before the dwarf was at risk of disfigurement. A little screaming wouldn’t hurt him.

He waited, until the dwarf’s cries subsided, as he realised he was not breaking quite yet.

Azog nodded, and gestured for the dwarf to continue.

“Tell me what you know about your brother.”

The brown eyes opened and closed, as misery marred the dwarf’s handsome features once more. It seemed to pain him greatly that his words might be used to wound his brotherly protector.

“I don’t know much. I know he liked some girl in the nearby village for a time. They were good friends. But she got married, to a lad from her village, and he never mentioned her again.”

The pale orc sipped on his beer.

“So he never fucked her then?”

The dwarf stared at him with those big brown eyes, angry.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. He’s never been interested in anyone since. That’s all I know.”

Azog stared back at the brunette, noticing the blood flushing the youth’s face now. He was very touchy about his brother, that was for sure. It was a good place to aim at for hurting him.

“Very well then, question number three.”

The pale orc licked his lips, waiting to see how the dwarf would react.

“If I told you to fuck your brother, would you do it?”

The dwarf’s eyes widened, horrified. He’d not been expecting to be asked such a thing, nor had he obviously ever entertained the idea himself. His lower lip shook a little.

“Come on, Kili, son of Dis. I need an answer. Yes, or no?”

The dwarf opened his mouth, and moved his lips, but there was no sound.

“One more time, Kili, or the setting goes up. And you know there is no limit to how far I can push it. So with that in mind, if I told you to fuck your brother, would you obey me?”

The little dwarf’s head shook, trying to fight the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. He gave a small sob, and nodded in assent.

“I can’t hear you, Kili. Was that a yes?”

The dwarf’s voice was a whisper.

“What choice would I have?”

Azog stood, beaming from ear to ear.

“You are correct, Kili. You would have no choice at all, because otherwise I would tear you limb from limb on this rack.”

The dwarf sobbed.

“So that’s settled then. I’m sure your brother doesn’t want to die a virgin, and there’s only one way to sort that out.”

The pale orc grinned.

“Either you fuck him, or I will.”

The dwarf stared at him, his face suddenly twisted in a mask of hate, the like of which Azog would never have expected from one so innocent and pretty.

“Don’t you touch him.”

The pale orc strutted towards the dwarf, meeting the angry brown eyes with good humour and a smile. He cuffed the youth on the face, with a fair amount of strength, and heard the smack ring around the room.

The dwarf closed his eyes in pain, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of screaming.

Still, Azog knew he’d won this round. Not that the outcome had ever been in any doubt.

“Take him away, take him to solitary and find him a cell.”

The dwarf glared after him, his cheek turning scarlet.

“Take him away, and bring his brother to me.”

The dark haired dwarf’s glare faltered, and he shook his head.

“Don’t you touch him, do you hear? Don’t hurt him!”

Azog laughed, hearing the dwarf’s protestations all the way down the hall as the little creature was dragged away. He would leave this one’s debasement to Sulga, he reckoned. She would be better positioned to break him down now. Her plan at winning his trust seemed full of malicious promise, and it would free Azog to focus fully on the more challenging prize.

He heard the fresh sound of marching, as his guards returned with the second prisoner.

Azog smiled cruelly.

This was the one he’d been waiting for. This one was sure to put up more fight, and now he would have some real fun.

The orc guards opened the door, and flung the bound blonde at their master’s feet.

“He bit me and tried to escape,” one of them complained.

The pale orc glowered down at the little dwarf, still lying on the floor where he’d fallen, his breath coming in big gasps as if he’d been running.

Azog bent down and took the dwarf’s face in his clawed hand. The blue eyes looked at him fearfully, as he took in the surroundings and the large instrument in the middle of the room. His little mind was obviously full of questions, but he said nothing.

Azog tilted his head this way and that, watching how the candlelight fell on this one’s face. The cheekbones weren’t so pretty, but the golden hair of the dwarf’s braids caught the light, as did the glassy blue eyes that seemed to Azog as wide and round as a child’s toy marbles.

“Welcome to your destiny, Fili, son of Dis.”

He watched the blue eyes flick back to his, trying to stay calm and controlled in spite of the fear. The dwarf’s lower lip jutted out in contempt, and the creature made an effort to speak.

“We both know you won’t kill me now. You can’t scare me.”

Azog nodded.

“No, I have a different method in mind for your death, you are right. And while I might not be quite so frightening to you yet, I can assure you this machine is something you should respect, Fili, son of Dis.”

Azog stood and walked to the rack, feeling the warmth on the rollers from their previous use.

“Why, it was on this very rack that I broke your grandfather’s bones, all those years ago.”

The blonde seemed to shudder, staring hard at the stone floor. Refusing to look at the machine.

“And when your brother was taken away this morning, where do you think he came?”

The blonde gave a murmur of dismay, and stared at Azog.

“What did you do to him? Where is he?”

Azog shrugged.

“His injuries are being tended to. As best they can be.”

The blue eyes closed in pain.

And to Azog’s surprise, the blonde dwarf struggled to his feet. He followed the pale orc over to the rack, and stood against it with his arms held aloft.

“Do what you want with me, Azog. You can have my bones broken on this rack, burn me, whatever you want. Just don’t hurt my brother.”

Azog nodded to the guards, who advanced on the dwarf.

“You heard the little prince. Strap him up, good and tight.”

The dwarf closed his eyes and stood. He seemed to be taking deep breaths, tensing himself for the punishment he knew was coming.

Azog watched as his hands were bound, over his blonde head, through the rope loops on the top panel, and his small bare feet were tethered to the bottom.

He was secured. All that remained was to set the angle and decide how much pain this creature should endure.

Azog didn’t want to break him just yet. But he wanted to do more than just scare him. He wanted this dwarf to learn to respect him, and for that he would have to be hurt, even if it did involve taking a risk.

And if there was a risk he might break, then Azog may as well enjoy himself now.

He raised his clawed hand to the dwarf’s cheek, feeling the coarse blonde stubble and taking one of the little face braids in his hand.

“Look at me, dwarf.”

The blue eyes locked on his, blank and unseeing. The creature was already trying to distance himself from what was happening – as if that would save him from the pain he so richly deserved.

Azog twirled the braid playfully, then ran a rough finger across the dwarf’s lips, parting them gently and catching the sharp exhalation of breath. The blue eyes stared at him in confusion.

“You are beautiful,” he let his hand run to the skin on the dwarf’s neck, and down to the top of the undergarment.

Azog inhaled, taking a deep breath of the dwarf’s scent, maturing nicely after three days of cold sweats and night terrors.

“I want to look at your body, dwarf. I want to see how beautiful it is, before I break it into pieces.”

Azog moved his bladed half-hand slowly towards the dwarf’s collar. He was careful not to catch the skin on the neck and cause a bleed, but his desire to cut the fabric and reveal the creature’s flesh was growing urgent.

The blue eyes had closed again, and the dwarf’s breathing was inaudible. His little body trembled deliciously as the blade moved down his torso, tracing lightly and coldly down his pale skin.

And eagerly, Azog reached with his good hand to tear away at the flimsy clothes – they tore easily and fell to the floor in shreds.

Until at last the blonde dwarf stood stripped bare and helpless.

The body was perfect, and Azog stopped for a second to admire the short, hard physique, youthful and masculine, and so deliciously vulnerable and afraid.

His cock twitched at the sight.

And enraptured, the pale orc pressed his nose against the thick blonde hair on the dwarf’s chest and sniffed.

The aroma from the creature’s body was arousing, and the dwarf gave a little moan of alarm at the huge grey head nestling against his bare skin.

At his cry, Azog felt his member stiffening, and pressed it onto the dwarf’s stomach.

The blonde tried to slide away, to move himself far from the orc’s throbbing organ, but he was held fast on the rack with nowhere to go.

Azog groped at the creature’s chest, finding a small pink nipple under the golden hair, hard to his touch in the chilly room. He wondered whether anyone had ever touched the dwarf as intimately as this before.

Maybe he was the first person to do so.

His black lips fastened on, and he sucked on the dwarf with all his brutish strength.

The creature’s breathing exploded, and he squirmed under Azog’s mouth.

“Stop it,” the blonde whispered, his voice weak and strained, “stop it, please.”

Azog ignored him, and clamped his sharp teeth onto the pink nipple in response. He bit into the youth’s tender body, and felt the blonde shudder as the sweet taste of dwarf-blood filled his mouth.

He sucked again greedily, and heard the dwarf moan in distress.

The little creature struggled on the rack, his attempts to stop the chewing only encouraging Azog to bite harder, and suck deeper.

“Your blood is sweet, Fili, son of Dis. You must be a virgin.”

The dwarf heard the implication in the orc’s voice and stared back in glassy fright, his blue eyes widening. He shook his head pathetically.

Azog lifted a finger to the dwarf’s lips.

“Your brother already told me, Fili. Told me about your little girlfriend in the Blue Mountains. The one who dumped you for another, taller male without a dwarf-sized cock. And she left you a virgin.”

He snorted.

“Women, eh?”

The blue eyes were fixed on his, and the creature’s breathing quickened under his finger. There was no distancing himself from this type of pain, was there?

Azog smiled.

“But you know what I think, Fili? I think you’re not as straight as you think you are. I bet you’ve had all kinds of dreams about big, wet cocks, fucking you raw while you cream yourself sticky.”

He let the dwarf feel the pressure of his growing erection, and reached his hand low for the dwarf’s own organ.

It was limp and flaccid, almost hidden from reach beneath the thicker fur on the dwarf’s groin. Azog stretched the soft member out fully, hearing the dwarf mumble in protest, and wondered whether to press the issue with him just yet.

He wanted to take this youth, he’d wanted to take him and break him from the moment he’d seen him.

But while Azog had no doubt that the ass on the little body would be juicy and tight and the screams would be deep and satiating, it would be so much better to know he was implanting his seed into this blonde dwarf’s belly when he finally claimed him for his own.

When it came, the blonde’s defiling would be awful, and total.

He sighed, cupping the dwarf’s testes and reaching a decision.

“I won’t leave you a virgin, Fili, son of Dis. I’m going to fuck you like a bitch.”

The blue eyes stared back unblinking, and when Azog took his finger away, the dwarf’s mouth still hung open.

The pale orc smiled.

“But your body can wait.”

He stepped away from the dwarf, and smoothed his loincloth back over the swollen orc cock. He would just have to find some other way of relieving himself now.

Azog sat back in the comfy chair stiffly, and took a sip of the beer.

The blonde dwarf was shaking all over, his body trembling in fear, and his eyes glazed and dull.

“Set the angle to 60 degrees, and start him on gear five.”

It was a high setting, and for a second Azog wondered if it was too much. But he needed the dwarf’s screams, and he needed them to be real.

The teeth on the gears ground into motion, lifting the rack more vertical and setting the rollers in motion with a metallic scraping sound.

The blonde flung his head back in shock, sending his braids flying into thin air, and he grunted in seeming surprise as his hands and legs were pulled further apart. His eyes widened as his body was stretched taut, and then his face began to buckle as the tightening of his limbs reached his body’s limits.

And still the machine ground on.

The dwarf screamed in pain, a long, high pitched sound that intensified as the rack continued to pull on him. He was shorter than his brother, Azog remembered. He probably should have started this one on number two, but you lived and learned.

Azog took a sip of the beer and watched the dwarf’s face contort in pain, and moved his hand across the shaft of his cock, pumping himself slick while he watched the torture.

Finally the machine stopped cranking, and the dwarf’s protests died on his lips, as the pressure on his joints reached a horrible plateau.

The orc strolled upto him again, admiring the blonde’s tightly drawn body, and noting the small trickle of blood that dripped from the ruined nipple.

Beautiful.

He watched as the beads of sweat pooled and trickled down the dwarf’s temples. The blonde’s breathing was fine, and high – he was struggling to stay as still as possible, to ease the pressure on his limbs, so his little breaths were small and quick, and his eyes were closed tight in concentration.

It was a good position to leave him in.

To let the creature count down the miserable minutes, acutely aware that at any moment his suffering could bite even harder.

But the pale orc wanted his release now.

Azog traced his finger lightly down the inside of the dwarf’s right arm, seeing the reddish blush already forming at the elbow and shoulder sockets. One setting higher and the dwarf’s limbs would shatter with a pop. And wouldn’t that be thrilling?

The pale orc pumped his meat, wondering what that sweet sound would do to his throbbing cock. Whether it was worth the troubles later, if the dwarf was crippled.

“Look at me, dwarf.”

The blue eyes snapped open in fear, hearing the cruelty in the voice immediately. The blonde’s breathing quickened. He knew what Azog wanted, and knew he would get it. But still that flicker of fire burnt in the dwarf’s eyes, and the pale orc recognised that brute force alone would not be enough to crack this one.

Instead, he smiled, and reached for the dwarf’s bare hips.

The blonde’s face creased in pain as Azog lifted his pelvis – ever so slightly – towards his own. And then he rocked the dwarf back and forth, gently and cruelly, tightening the pressure ever so subtly and sending the blonde gasping for air again.

The pale orc reached around, and felt the tight round buttocks of his toy – felt the dwarf skin greasy with sweat and hot to the touch.

He clutched at the flesh greedily.

“Look at me, Fili.”

The blue eyes opened, and then rolled back into their sockets as the dwarf swooned in pain. His mouth fell open with a moan and Azog felt his climax building.

“ _Beg_ me to stop.”

His clawed hand slipped between the dwarf’s butt cheeks and pushed gently, lifting the pelvis higher.

“Beg me to stop, Fili, and I’ll release you.”

The blue eyes tried to focus on his, and the lips shook with the effort of speech.

“Fuck. You.”

Azog snarled in fury.

Suddenly – desperately – he wanted to plug himself into the blonde’s butthole, and force his way inside the little tease, but there was no way this dwarf could be unhooked from the rack in time. He was on the verge of exploding already.

Instead, he pulled the dwarf’s hips towards him again, as hard and high as they could go, and heard the savage sound of something breaking inside the blonde’s body. It was a beautiful, crunching sound, mingled with a rich, passionate scream, and Azog pumped his organ harder, feeling his own heart-rate soar in delight.

“You little whore!”

Azog grunted and groaned, and felt his flood of sticky slime shoot over the dwarf’s thighs.

He panted, letting his full load out, and then took a deep, dizzying breath.

It wasn’t what he’d planned, but it had been fun.

He took a step backwards, and landed himself back in the chair, taking a well-earned swig of beer and casting a good look at the state of his victim.

The blonde dwarf was unconscious now, his mouth hanging open and his eyes closed. There were purplish bruises around his joints, and he was dripping with a mixture of sweat and orc-cum. His body was dirtied and his beauty degraded magnificently.

Azog took another sip of beer, and admired his handiwork.

“Take him down now, and throw him in his cell. You don’t need to bother chaining him. I don’t think he’s going to be running anywhere anytime soon.”

The guards chuckled in response, and set about untying the prisoner. They left the dwarf lying unconscious in a heap on the floor, and when they were ready, dragged him by his damaged arms across the floor back towards his cell.

Azog watched, emotionless, and wondered how his niece was getting on with breaking in the other prisoner. Hopefully there would be something left of him once she’d got her rocks off. He’d given her strict instructions to restrain herself with both dwarves.

Once Sulga got excited, there was no telling what body parts she might lop off.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin receives a visit from Legolas, Fili feels sorry for himself, and Sulga uses Kili for her own ends (or is that the other way round?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are getting a bit longer now all the intro stuff is over. I don’t know if that’s necessarily a good thing or a bad thing, but there’s not really any stomach-turning violence this time (although there is some smutty stuff later on) so you can safely sit down with a nice cup of tea to read this chapter! Or alternatively, maybe chug down a beer or two like uncle Azog would, and make him proud.
> 
> Uncle Azog is not actually present in this chapter either, but I can promise you he will be back in a big way next week, and some of our characters will come to bitterly regret it.

 

**Bilbo**

“What is it you seek from us, _my lord?”_

The hobbit studied the handsome young elf with some curiosity. He’d never seen such a pale shade of blonde before on any of the fair folk. It was almost silvery like the shine on the moon, and suited the elf prince’s frigid and distant beauty.

Thorin was never one to miss an insult, but to the hobbit’s surprise and pride, this time he’d obviously decided to forgo any quarrel over his proper titles. He stood there sizing up the much taller elf, the flickering of his flinty blue eyes the only sign of his inner anger.

“We need your help, _my prince_. Your father has presumably told you of the nature of our position. My two nephews and heirs – princes themselves – have been taken as prisoners by the pale orc.”

Bilbo watched as the dwarf-king paused for breath. He could not bring himself to even speak the name of the one who’d abducted his kin.

“His letter informs me of a certain elven document, one that was recently stolen near Mirkwood. It mentions several... _abominable_ rituals. Rituals he now means to enact on my heirs!”

Thorin’s face was reddening, and even the elf prince wrinkled his nose at the comment. He obviously understood what was meant.

“We need your father’s help to recover them both, before it’s too late. We need your father’s troops, and we need to march on the pale orc and destroy all who know of this _ritual_ before word gets out among the other fell beings of this world.”

The blond elf stared at the floor, his face grave.

“I know of what you speak, but I fear it may be too late to save your heirs, my king. Even if we marched on his fortress in time to save your nephews from this... _desecration_ , we would be unable to take them alive.”

The elf’s luminous blue eyes fell on Thorin with some pity.

“You must know this.”

Bilbo watched as his lover’s face fell. The eyes closed momentarily, and Bilbo braced himself for the inevitable outburst that would surely follow.

But once again, the dwarf-king managed to control himself.

“Of course I know it, Legolas. I think night and day on nothing but this vile fortune. But I will not leave them to this fate without a fight! And I would hope your people would unite with mine in our search for justice. For your people have also suffered from this wicked affair. Your people stand to lose as much if you are captured by these miscreants. They are your true enemy, more so now than ever.”

The elf bowed his head.

“You are right, of course. But the decision is my father’s, as you know. Whatever sympathies I have for your troubles are immaterial. And I do sympathise. It is not right that a prince – any prince, even a lowly dwarf prince – should suffer torment of this kind. I will recommend to my father that we send forces to help. And I myself shall happily lead these forces alongside you, Thorin. But it will be his decision, not mine. That is all I can offer.”

Bilbo nodded slightly, hoping that Thorin would accept. It was always possible for the dwarf-lord’s temper to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, and he was so close now to getting the help they needed.

“Very well, Legolas. Speak to your father. Tell him to name his price in gold, and he shall have it.”

The elf shook his head, and his radiant hair shimmered in the light.

“I doubt he will want your gold, my king. For _our people_ , justice comes without a price.”

He smiled smugly, and Bilbo met Thorin’s eyes with a stern glare.

The dwarf-lord shook his head darkly.

“As you say, Legolas. Thank you for answering my summons.”

“The pleasure is mine, Thorin. I hope to return soon – and with my father’s army.”

The elf prince bowed gracefully.

“Until then.”

Thorin grunted in farewell, staring angrily at the elf prince’s back as he glided down the hallway and out of the throne room.

He turned to the hobbit and growled.

“What a fucking tosser.”

Bilbo sighed.

“If he brings his soldiers, what does it matter? Legolas is a renowned warrior, Thorin. We need him on our side. We don’t have to like him. And maybe he’s _wrong_. What if it’s not too late? Maybe we can get them back.”

He strode up to the throne, and clasped his hand around his lover’s clenched fist.

“If the elves help us, we might still bring them home, alive and well.”

The dwarf-lord stared at him, the blue eyes cold and unseeing.

“Do you really believe that, Bilbo?”

His voice was flat and toneless.

But the hobbit forced himself to nod.

“I do. We’ll bring them back, alive, and in one piece. I know it.”

But even to his own ears, the words sounded frail and hopeless...

  
************************************************  
**Fili**

All around, there was blackness and pain.

It was an aching, throbbing pain that lifted and died. He felt it before he woke, seeping into his bones from the joints and muscle.

And when he opened his eyes, hoping it was just a terrible dream, it was still as dark as when he’d slept.

So how could he know whether he was in pain or only dreaming?

He realised the answer – after agonising over it for gods knew how long.

The candles. They must have gone out.

He was still in the cell then, still trapped like a beast.

Still a prisoner to a nightmare.

But where was his brother?

There was no sound of him in the darkness.

_Kili? Talk to me! Where are you?_

His voice sounded drawn and tight, and faraway. A stranger’s voice.

Answered only by silence.

Panic took over, and he tried to stand, wanting to ransack the whole stinking cell to find his brother.

But the pain flared in his knee and he fell flat on the floor in a naked heap.

They’d taken him to the rack – earlier. They’d taken them _both_ to the rack. And maybe that’s where Kili was now – who knew what evil they were doing to him? To his little brother!

Thorin, please!

_Why haven’t you come for us? How can you leave us here to die like this?_

Thorin –

He heard a voice moaning his uncle’s name, but he didn’t recognise it.

It wasn’t his voice.

But there was nobody else here, not now Kili was gone.

They would be coming again soon. Coming for him. That devil. He was going to –

He shivered on the floor.

_Thorin. Don’t you love us anymore? Why won’t you save us?_

But his uncle didn’t reply.

So he waited.

On the cold and hard stone floor, naked and hurting.

Waited on his uncle. Or his brother. Or for that devil to come and –

Oh gods.

_Mahal, how have I displeased you? Why won’t you save me? What have I done to deserve this?_

But there was only silence.

And still the room remained black and cold through both consciousness and dreaming.

  
*************************************************  
**Sulga**

She stalked her way to the cells in solitary, her bosoms heaving with every step. She’d removed all her leathers and squeezed herself into the whore dress again, spending long minutes looking critically into a dusty mirror to ensure her cleavage was displayed to maximum effect.

She was looking forward to continuing her little game with the dark-eyed, handsome prince.

All afternoon, she’d hunted in the Saltmarsh market – and found a veritable horde of war-leathers, dog-leashes, handbags and boots.

She’d even managed to get a great deal in the local coiffeurs. She’d merely had to explain who she was related to, and the young woman had offered to braid her hair for nothing – with a cup of spiced tea and a ginger biscuit thrown in.

It was great to be appreciated without violence.

It gave her more of an understanding of what the world must be like for those born into families less bloody-minded than her own. How the softer people came to read so much meaning into their sentimental conventions, rather than the rush of blood to the head when someone else’s was removed from the shoulders.

Maybe even one day, if she kept up her games with the dwarf prince, she’d learn enough about the other races to be able to pass herself off as one of them.

It might be pleasing to try it one day, as an experiment. To pretend she was one of them.

If they didn’t reciprocate her niceness, well. It would be their loss really.

She reached the cell door and paused for a moment, smoothing down the cow-licks that had escaped the braids, and plumping her bosoms out in readiness.

She took a deep breath.

And jingling the key in the lock, she hoped the dwarf would be relatively unscathed after her uncle’s grim attentions.

Thankfully, as soon as she entered the gloomy cell she could see he was alert and anxious, with shining eyes, glossy dark hair, and a body that remained intact. He even greeted her with a cry of relief.

The guards hadn’t bothered to chain him this time, and he shuffled over to her and took her hand the second she entered.

Sulga was strangely touched.

“My brother, is he alright? Do you know what they did to him earlier?”

She felt the dwarf squeeze her hand in appeal, and recognised his gesture as misguided brotherly concern for the troublesome blonde. On her return from Saltmarsh, she’d heard talk of the morning’s rackings, and had laughed heartily along with the guards.

The blonde prince thought he was better than them all, and for that he only deserved to suffer. If he’d been snapped a little on the rack, then it served him right for being Oakenshield’s heir, didn’t it?

Still, this one would expect her sympathy now for his brother’s stupidity.

How would a _normal_ person react to this?

Sulga frowned, trying to recall from her rich experience what the soft folk did when their loved ones were horribly maimed. He would look to her for support, in all likelihood. Maybe some kind of physical gesture was called for?

She patted his shoulder woodenly.

“I heard he was crippled on the rack.”

The brown eyes stared back at her in shock. The brunette’s lower lip trembled.

“ _Why?_ Why did they do that to him?”

She squeezed his hand in return, and bid him sit down.

“I’m sorry. The master lost his temper with your brother’s stubborn mischief. It was... unavoidable.”

The dwarf nodded hopelessly.

“I know. He’s trying to provoke Azog to protect me!”

He stared at her with those big brown eyes, imploring her.

“Sulga, tell me the truth.”

She felt unease prickle at the back of her neck. Surely he couldn’t suspect her identity already?

“Tell me what you know. Is there any way I can help him? Is there any way out of here? Is our uncle coming for us?”

She heard him sob, and realised the dwarf was on the verge of weeping.

“If there’s no way out for us, tell me now. You talked about those herbs, last time? Give my brother something to make it painless. Please. I can’t let this happen to him!”

The dark-haired dwarf bowed his head, letting it drop all the way onto her shoulder.

“I _love_ him, Sulga. He’s my brother. He’s looked after me all my life, and I don’t want him to suffer. I don’t want them to hurt him anymore.”

She could feel the wetness of the dwarf’s tears on her bare skin, and felt the little creature reach out and cling to her arms, appealing to her as if she was an angel of mercy.

Nobody had ever held her like this before.

She stared down at him in bewilderment, before placing her palm on his head and stroking him as if he were a favoured warg. The gesture seemed to soothe him – she felt his body relax in her arms, even as his tears flowed faster.

A crazy idea entered her head, and she leaned her lips in close to his ear.

“I will _help_ him as you wish, Kili. When the time comes, I will not let him suffer.”

The dark haired prince squeezed her arms in a hug.

“Thank you.”

His voice wobbled, and his lips brushed against her ear a second time.

“Will you... do the same for me, Sulga?”

She thought of all the delicious ways she could kill him. And of all of those well-rehearsed methods, poison leaves would be the last. But somehow, she found she was growing to dislike the thought of this one’s death.

He was far more interesting living.

His tears, his softness, his trust in her – these were all strange and exotic things she’d never experienced from one so kind and pretty before.

She reached her hand out on instinct, and stoked the back of her hand along the soft skin of his face.

“But I don’t want you to die.”

The words had escaped her before she’d had time to consider them, and now she felt her own heart beating faster, as she realised it was true indeed.

What in Sauron’s name was wrong with her?

The dwarf’s sobbing stopped, and she felt his hands move to her waist. His lips were at her ear again – she could feel his breath on her skin in the darkness.

It was warm.

“I don’t want to die either, Sulga. And I don’t want Fili to die.”

He squeezed her waist.

“Help us. Please. Help us get out.”

She realised he was watching her closely in the gloom.

Then without warning, his hand was brushing against the skin on her own face, tracing the contours of her cheek and jaw as if he somehow cared for her.

“If you have the keys for Fili’s cell, you could let us out. Organise some distraction for the guards, then let us out. If we could make it to Saltmarsh...”

“You’d never make it to Saltmarsh, Kili.”

She found herself growing bolder at the touch of his hand. The thought of him escaping from her clutches was as unpleasant as the thought of him dying.

“They’d be out tracking you in no time, they’d hunt you down – your brother would slow you – and they’d pull out your entrails to burn before your eyes.”

His hand stroked her face a second time.

“But you’re an orc, Sulga. If you went to the stables, you could get us a warg, and ride into Saltmarsh with us. We could rally the townspeople, and send word to my uncle. He’d let you return to Erebor with us, he wouldn’t blame you for any of this!”

She listened to the hope in his voice, and almost envied his optimism. Whether or not he truly believed such a scheme was possible, the idea obviously gave him strength.

It gave him hope.

And she was part of that hope.

She had a power over him that no one else did, and for the first time in her life, it didn’t seem to depend on cruelty and violence.

Only on her lies.

She stiffened, considering.

He didn’t _know_ she’d been lying to him. He didn’t know who she was – and if she travelled with him far away from here, he would never have to find out.

Maybe it was possible.

Maybe she could escape alongside him.

She felt suddenly lightheaded. The guards would let her go in an instant, even with the dwarf. All she needed to do was to wait for her uncle to sleep, then she would be in full command of the entire keep. The wargs would obey her without question. Why, they could even ride straight for this Erebor, where the streets were paved with gold, and straight to this Thorin Oakenshield’s promised land.

And if she ever got bored of life amongst the soft little dwarves, she could always return. Her uncle wouldn’t care, so long as she brought appropriate tribute – some dwarf heads for the mantelpiece perhaps.

And as long as she left him the blonde prize to fuck up and knock up in his sick new game.

She shook her head, trying to push these nonsense dreams from her mind.

Her name was Sulga, and she was the commander of the orcish armies of the Mordor swamp. She had been chosen as the heir to the Scourge of the Red Lodge, and was the niece of the greatest orc-lord in the world.

She was not – and never would be – some traitor whore to her people.

If the dwarf wanted to think she could help him escape, let him think that. She could put his desperation to good use, she knew well from experience.

His need could be used to make him _hers_.

She pressed her lips against his ear, reaching a decision.

“I could come for you one night soon, Kili. When the master sleeps, when the guards are eating. We could steal away and ride for the far hills all night long before they see we’re gone.”

His hand stroked at her hair, running over the fresh braids she’d had coiled that very morning.

“Do you have the key for Fili’s cell, Sulga? Could you get it when you come for me?”

She nodded blandly.

“It hangs beside his cell, Kili. It would be easy to release him, if I could distract the guards.”

It wasn’t even a lie either.

“Please Sulga, find a way to do it. And do it soon.”

She felt the dwarf tense up in her arms.

And then his lips were pressed on hers.

He was kissing her, of his own free will.

She had no time to think, and could only react to how pleasing the sensation was – his hands on her shoulders, holding her close, and his lips on hers, kissing her as if he cared.

No dwarf – nor man, nor elf – none of the soft folk had ever kissed her through choice before.

And no orc had ever kissed her like this. He was gentle, and sweet.

He broke away, and breathlessly mumbled in her ear.

“I can’t go without him, Sulga. Please. Please get him out too. I’ll carry him if he can’t walk!”

She felt his lips on her neck, and his tender kisses on the skin where her flesh was soft and vulnerable.

“Alright.”

She agreed in a haze, her lies coming quickly to hand. She would say whatever he wanted to hear, to keep him kissing her like this!

And when the time came later, she would have that blonde half flogged to death if she must – anything to show her little brunette that the brother was a lost cause.

She felt Kili’s lips on hers again, kissing her deeper than before.

“Thank you, Sulga.”

His hands ran down to her waist again, trailing slowly past her bosoms, and she heard herself sigh. She wanted him to touch her now, not play with her coyly like this.

“I won’t leave here without him. I’ll be in your debt forever.”

She smiled in the dark at the thought.

And as gently as her growing frustration allowed, she pushed him backwards onto the floor, and climbed on top of his shorter body.

She heard his breathing quicken, as he realised what she meant to do, and felt a rush of satisfaction as his hands grabbed at her chest.

Her breasts fell out of the whore dress with ease, and the dwarf’s fingers found her nipples firm and hard to the touch – she was already feeling the heat building inside her. She’d heard this dwarf was no virgin, and it suited her purposes well enough. Hopefully he knew enough to adequately service a female hole.

Otherwise he would have a harsh learning curve ahead of him.

“Make it worth my while then, Kili.”

She giggled, and clutched at the dwarf’s awakening cock. She found the gap in the fabric of his undergarment, and pulled the hardening shaft through so she could savour his velvety skin in the palm of her hand.

His skin here was softer than on his face, and hotter – and unbidden, the dwarf moaned softly as she shook his shaft to life.

“What do you want me to do?” His voice was husky, curious.

She giggled again.

To save the life of his stupid brother, she could get him to do anything. He was under her spell completely, and she hadn’t even had to mark his sweet face or carve her name into his pretty penis.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

She bunched up her dress, and hunched forward on her knees.

“Eat me.”

Easing herself forward – it would not do to smother him before she’d had her kicks – she balanced her cunt over the dwarf’s face, feeling herself tense as his warm breath tickled her skin and his tongue began probing at the fleshy folds of her juicy wet clam.

She sensed his hesitancy – maybe he’d never done this before, or maybe he didn’t like her taste. Either way, she didn’t really care – she expected him to earn his release – and she pushed herself forward regardless, angling herself so his mouth was positioned correctly

And seeming to take the hint, he stepped up a gear.

She closed her eyes and felt his little tongue play over her sweet spot, enjoying the way the shock ran through her body, straight up to her nipples.

He was good. He was desperate to please her, for sure.

“Do it faster.”

She pressed his fingers into her breasts, urging him on until she felt the desire to take his meat – for something of his to be rammed deep inside of her, so she could feel her power over him grow until she let him come.

Checking in the dark, she found his cock swollen and long, ready for her to slide onto.

But she was done taking the lead here.

She rolled lazily onto her back, half pulling him with her.

“Fuck me, Kili. I want you to fuck me deep and good.”

With a tremble in his breath, she felt his little body climb on top of her own, and smiled as the tip of his warm cock searched for a way into her. He would be hers now, now and for every night after this.

She would make him love her, even if he hated it.

His cock found the right angle at last, and he dutifully slid himself into her slippery hole. She was wide and ready for him, and he filled her up on his first thrust, seeming to be surprised at her lack of resistance.

Maybe he was used to fucking the good girls.

“I want it harder,” her voice was a growl. “Do it faster.”

She rocked her pelvis back and forth as he obeyed her commands, and heard him panting with the effort of it all. She felt the urge to bite him, to hit him – to do anything to make him cry out – but even the thought of hurting him was enough to excite her now.

She’d have all the time in the world later to take him more cruelly than this.

She felt the familiar buzz spreading from between her legs, and grabbed at his hair as he pumped her.

It was silky soft in her hand, and she pulled him towards her with a yank.

“Ow! Sulga, what is it?”

His voice was surprised, as if he’d taken her to be nice, so she tugged him harder.

“Fuck me good, Kili.”

She knew he was struggling to keep his rhythm while she pulled at his hair, but he was clever enough to keep himself going, and to keep edging her closer to her end...

The buzz intensified, and she closed her eyes to let the ripple of pleasure shudder through her body as he made her come.

She might have moaned – or cried out to him – it didn’t concern her now, but as she let herself go she was dimly aware that his cock stiffened and trembled inside of her – as if for an instant he was as happy as she was.

And when she sat up, moments later, and felt his sticky cum leaking out onto her whore’s dress, she smiled in satisfaction.

He was hers now.

She would ride him harder next time and hurt him properly, but she would be fair and let him get off too. Seeing him spunking his load was all part of her fun. She would make him want it harder and dirtier, and if he displeased her she would discipline him, as firmly as he needed – until she’d made him perfect.

She would make him crave it how she wanted it to be, and he would love her for it.

She pushed him off, more roughly than she’d intended, and rose to her feet.

“I must go now, Kili. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

He took a deep breath, and she wondered whether he was on the verge of begging her. But his voice was strangely steady.

“My brother. You said you’ll get the key?”

She smiled maliciously, knowing he couldn’t really see her intentions in the dark, whatever he might suspect.

“Of course. I’ll come for you soon. Be ready to go when I come for you.”

She turned to go, and felt his arm on her ankle.

“Sulga, wait.”

She turned round, wishing she could see his face now to know what he wanted.

“What is it?”

“Just – be careful. If it looks too dangerous, don’t risk it. I don’t want you to get hurt either.”

The smile on her face froze, as she realised he was being sincere.

This fool was in for some serious disappointment.

She cleared her throat, suddenly desperate again to be away from his innocent trust and good wishes. They were starting to stick in her throat and make her feel something unpleasant.

“Of course, Kili. Good night.”

She stalked towards the door and sealed him in with a feeling of relief.

This dwarf could only turn out to be trouble for her, whatever her stupid feelings for him might be.

She rolled her eyes, and strutted down the corridor, intending to reach her quarters and let herself think, but then another thought came to her.

Maybe she should tell her uncle about her little conversation with the brunette brother.

Maybe he would like filling in on her progress.

Maybe she should share her plans with her lord and master.

Because her name was Sulga, and she would never be a _dwarf’s_ traitor whore.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog puts aside his swamp tending and beer drinking to begin the more important work of enacting his wicked plans on his helpless prisoners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains graphic descriptions of serious sexual abuse, violence and rape – as seen through the unsympathetic eyes of the perpetrator. If you are likely to be troubled by such content, then please consider carefully whether you really want to read this!

**Azog**

  
Out on the balcony, the night winds brought the sweet waft of sultry squalor from the perfumed swamps, and flocks of flesh-eating sparrows flapped lazily to their roosts on the bird-boxes lining the castle wall. Azog took great amusement from watching them tear the heads off passing lizards each morning – he was a keen birder, and sometimes even hung bones from the balcony for their little beaks to pick clean and crack open for marrow.

These bones of his former prisoners had already been _defleshed_ – of course, and whatever was left of a carcass should surely be put to use in feeding the local wildlife that lived around his beautiful swamp. A well fed ecosystem was a happy ecosystem, that’s what his beloved father had always said.

Azog took a deep breath of the darkening air as he sipped on his favourite lager.

It was nearly time.

He’d selected and laid out the implements he wished to use for the night’s proceedings, so everything was ready for him to enjoy his vengeance at last.

He’d had his chief guard push the blonde’s joints back into place, ready for this big special day. The dwarf was fit enough to walk again, for now at least. Later he could be racked as much as Azog cared, but for tonight it would not do for him to lie crippled and weak.

And finally, he’d drunk the blackened ooze of his niece’s bloodshedding, from the special silver goblet she’d given him after it had sat beneath the moonlight for the three whole nights, setting the charm on it ready.

And so – according to the elven manual – he was all set to impregnate the first male he fucked up.

And his cock was stiffening with anticipation at the thought.

In fact, he’d been slightly concerned he might blow his load early, so he’d had a nice cold beer to steady his nerves before the big push.

He didn’t want his blonde prize thinking he was impotent, on what would be their first night together!

Gently, he ran his hand over his hardening cock, remembering the smoothness of the dwarf’s butt cheeks, and how nice and tight and juicy his asshole was going to feel wrapped around his thick dick. How tonight he would begin to even the score between his family and the wretched line of Durin in a way the dwarf scum would never forget.

He finished the beer in a swift gulp, and started down the stairs to the skin room.

Of all the torture chambers, this was his favourite.

Opening the door, he saw everything was assembled. They’d even prepared the fireplace, so the room was warm and cosy, with shadows dancing from the dark corners. And most pleasingly, the red glow of the fire was tastefully offset by flickering lanterns fixed round the walls, showing off the cured collection of ornamental skins that hung from the ceiling.

The hides were all wonderfully flayed – some by Azog’s own dear father himself – and the extensive collection contained several members of each of the major races of the entire known world. Some of the skins had been in his family for generations, and their fingers and toes were starting to curl and blacken with age.

Azog made a mental note to book in a tanner from Saltmarsh to tend the precious antiques.

He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

But everything else looked ready.

The dark-eyed brother was already waiting for him, for some reason still dressed in the ridiculous undergarment and held on a leash beside two burly guards. With another two on hand beside him lest the prisoners forgot their place.

Azog beamed over at him, and nodded.

“Young Kili, good of you to join us. I don’t know if this soirée will be quite to your taste, but I’ll try and enjoy myself anyway.”

The dwarf shook his head.

“Whatever you plan on doing in here, _please_ don’t! Don’t hurt us. My uncle is rich, he’ll pay plenty of gold for us, if you’d just – ”

Azog rolled his eyes, reaching for the chilled bottle of beer that had been set out for him on a table.

“Oh, give it a rest! Shut him up, will you lads? I’m sick of listening to this negativity.”

The pale orc grinned as the two guards produced a ball gag and muzzled the brunette, despite his attempts to shake them off.

“That’s better. He doesn’t need to say anything. He just needs to watch.”

He strode up close to the dwarf, admiring the way the creature suddenly paled as Azog lifted his loincloth to show his huge, twitching cock.

“Do you hear me, Kili? You just need to watch what I’m going to do to your brother.”

He saw the dwarf’s brown eyes widen, and lock on his own, as if pleading.

But the pale orc smiled, and stepped up to him.

“No, there is no escape for him now. You know that. Maybe even you want it too? You can touch it if you like, Kili.”

He grabbed at the dwarf’s skinny hand, and forced it under the cloth, letting the dwarf get the full measure of how big and angry his cock was becoming.

The dwarf flinched, but Azog kept his hand there. He was in the mood to fuck both of these princes tonight – and wondered briefly whether the spell would work if he did so. He supposed it wasn’t worth the risk right now, but maybe later, when his blood was hot and horny and the blonde was shot full of seed...

He lifted the dark, silky hair of the younger brother, and sniffed it greedily.

Yes, maybe he would take this one too.

If he had anything left, of course.

He nodded to one of the guards.

“Hand me the oil.”

The orc guard produced a small bottle of grease, and Azog grabbed the brunette’s hands.

“Tell you what, you can oil me up, Kili. How does that sound?”

The dwarf frowned at him, not understanding.

“Oil my cock up for your brother, there’s a good lad. And do it properly. Otherwise it will hurt him more.”

The brunette stared in mute dismay as his hands were greased with the oil, and forced onto the pale orc’s shaft. He seemed to consider dropping the organ in protest, but shook his head and thought better of the foolish notion.

“Hmm, that’s better. Your little dwarf fingers are soft like a woman’s aren’t they? No wonder you fight like a girl. I bet you do a lot of hand cranking with those soft silky palms!”

He closed his eyes happily, enjoying the dwarf’s hesitant touch around his cock.

He was nice and supple now. Greased and ready to impale that little slut on his big meaty pole.

He turned at the sound of the door opening, and smiled as he saw his niece leading in the blonde prisoner. She was dressed in the dead whore’s dress again – and had requested that he pretend she was a lowly prison guard while the brunette was around.

Whatever floated her boat.

Azog was more interested in the golden haired dwarf, and how to adequately punish him for his family’s heinous misdeeds and vile royal lineage.

And as the sad creature limped into the room, the guards laughed in mockery.

The blonde was blindfolded, and naked – leaving his pale skin and purple bruises on full display for the guards’ delectation. And rather hilariously, Sulga had found a cheap, wooden crown in the marketplace to sit on his head – a child’s toy, with jagged prongs around its rim.

It had been arranged on his head, in jest – Azog just wished Oakenshield himself could be there to see it. For with his hands bound on a rope lead and his eyes covered, the powerless heir to Erebor looked every inch the royal slave.

Azog took the rope from his niece without a word, and led the prisoner forward to a post in the middle of the room, so the lead could be fastened securely. And making sure to leave plenty of room on the cord, he took a swig of beer, his eyes roving over the dwarf’s naked body.

The creature was waiting like a donkey in the rain, his head downcast with the mock crown slipping down his forehead. Like a lamb to slaughter, he must suspect what was about to happen to him.

Some of it, at least.

But it was time to inform him of the rest.

“Prince Fili, so good for you to fit me into your royal schedule. I’m honoured by your attendance in my dungeon.”

The guards laughed again, on cue, and the dark haired brother dwarf gave a cry through his gag. He seemed desperate to catch Sulga’s eye, as if his niece had any intention or ability to stop the fun.

Azog stepped forward and placed his huge hand on the blonde’s shoulder, and slid it through the course golden hair on the naked chest. The creature shuddered delightfully under his touch, exposing again the muscles and contours of the athletic little body to his roving gaze.

His finger found the dwarf’s ruined nipple, and lingered there for a second. He hesitated, then squeezed the scab between his fingers until the creature squirmed and fresh blood ran from the wound.

“Although of course it was I who summoned you here, just so we could be together for this special occasion.”

He cleared his throat.

“An old elvish manuscript has recently come into my possession, and it recounts some of the _strangest_ rituals and spells that you could imagine.” He paused for dramatic effect, and saw the dark haired dwarf was listening to him closely, uncertain where this was going.

The blonde stood shivering before him, facing the post in the middle of the room, trying his best to not react to Azog attempt’s at ridicule and cruelty.

“One of these rituals in particular caught my eye. It made me think of you and your brother, to be precise. I thought you would make the perfect candidates to experiment on, since you are such young and hardy little princes.”

The dwarf shivered, and Azog saw the gooseflesh on his shoulders, despite the warmth from the fire only yards away.

He brushed a hand across those trembling shoulders, scooping up a handful of the long, blonde hair, and clutched it forcefully to yank the dwarf backwards.

The creature lost his balance and fell, and the mock crown clattered to the floor.

Azog bent down low to whisper in the dwarf’s ear.

“The spell describes how to _impregnate_ a _male_ , Fili. How a male such as yourself, young and healthy and unspoilt, can be filled with seed and forced to carry an orc pregnancy – just like a female!”

The dwarf said nothing, but his knees seemed to buckle beneath him.

“That’s right, Fili. That’s why you are here. To be my _bitch_.”

He ran his hand across the golden-furred chest, feeling the shuddering breath leave the dwarf as he traced his hand down the smooth, flat belly. And greedily, he pulled on the dwarf’s cock, shrivelled and pathetic, as sad and useless as his toy crown on the floor.

The blonde struggled to regain his balance, and released a shaky breath.

“You’re lying. It’s not possible.”

Azog smiled, and grabbed at the dwarf’s throat, half choking him and forcing his head up while he whispered in the creature’s ear.

“I don’t think you believe that, Fili. I think you know it’s true. You’re going to whelp my seed like a little bitch. I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to make you pregnant.”

The blonde panted for breath, and Azog released his neck.

He returned his interest to the creature’s most intimate parts, and wrapped his fingers round the tender cock. The skin was so soft here, so delicate and fragile – it would be a marvel to flay in one piece and add to his art collection.

“The manuscript says the orcling will grow in your belly, Fili. For one whole month, getting bigger and hungrier all the time. Until at last it’s big enough to crawl out of your little body.”

He pinched playfully at the cock, and the dwarf nearly collapsed.

“Can you guess where it will come out, Fili? Can you guess which body part of yours is going to be used for a woman’s hole?”

He tugged savagely on the dwarf’s penis, and then pushed the creature roughly to the floor.

Still blindfolded, the blonde fell heavily on his side, falling over the sharpened prongs of the wooden crown, and crying out in surprise.

The guards laughed, and even Sulga – on her best behaviour in front of the dark haired prince – cracked a smile at the sight of the blonde’s helplessness.

Azog reached out to the dumb creature, and unfastened the blindfold.

The dwarf blinked, and the pale orc saw tears of frustration forming around those wide blue eyes as he took in the shadowy room with his brother standing witness. But the creature still eyed him defiantly, meeting his gaze and refusing to look away.

Amused, Azog cuffed him hard around the face, and the little blonde fell back to the floor.

Yards away, the brunette struggled to break free, and received a similar swipe for his efforts from the guards beside him.

Nothing would be allowed to spoil the Master’s fun tonight.

The blonde lay motionless on the floor, refusing to move, and breathing heavily. Whether it was from the pain of all the blows he’d received – or whether from fear – Azog didn’t know, but it was arousing.

He stood over the little creature, and untied his loincloth.

His full, hideous erection pointed at the blonde dwarf, and Azog nodded coldly at the sudden horror in the blue eyes.

In desperation, the blonde jumped to his feet, but Azog yanked on the rope before he’d even ran a yard, and pulled the struggling dwarf back to his clutches.

“It’s time, Fili. Time for your _defiling_.”

He heard the dwarf beg, finally, and the desperation in his voice was deliciously exhilarating.

“No, _please_ – please don’t do this to me!”

The blonde tried to slip free from Azog’s hand, but was far too weak.

In response, the pale orc ran his bladed half-hand across the creature’s throat, and the struggles subsided.

“If you try anything _heroic_ , Fili, son of Dis, then it will be your brother who I defile instead.”

The dwarf closed his eyes, and nodded.

“Do it to me, then. I don’t care.”

There was a tremor in his voice. They could all hear it.

“I’m as good as dead already.”

The pale orc grinned over at the guards.

“He says yes! I knew the sight of my cock would get him going.”

He pushed the dwarf forward, onto his stomach, and lifted the lithe little haunches high in the air.

The creature’s ass was smooth and beautiful, and Azog let his hand roam over the unblemished skin on the butt cheeks. Fittingly for a youthful warrior, it was pert and compact, maddeningly unspoiled and ripe for deflowering.

“You’re still a virgin, aren’t you Fili?”

He couldn’t hide the fascination in his lecherous old voice.

“You’ve never used your puny dwarf cock to fuck anyone, and never been fucked by a big stiff prick before, have you?”

He cupped the ass cheek, and grabbed a chunk of the firm flesh, marvelling at the way the skin rebounded under his scaly fingers.

An idea came to his mind, and he drew his hand back, striking at the butt cheeks, watching the flesh wobble at the blow.

The guards laughed.

“I asked you a question, Fili, son of Dis. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

The dwarf stifled a groan at this new humiliation.

“Yes.”

“It’s yes, _master_. Were you keeping yourself pure for marriage. Was that the plan?”

He spanked the butt-cheeks harder, watching the skin turn red.

“Yes. _Master_.”

The guards guffawed.

“That was a stupid plan, wasn’t it Fili? Because I’m going to tear you a new asshole now.”

He smacked the dwarf a second time, and heard the echo of the slap rebound round the room, while the guards stifled their laughter and looked on lustily.

“I said, your plan was stupid, wasn’t it Fili? Because now you’re going to lose your precious virginity to my huge orc cock, aren’t you? Do you think I should be _gentle_ with you?”

He struck the dwarf’s ass full force and watched the butt-cheeks wobble as the creature flinched.

“Yes... _master_.”

The guards were watching, waiting for the show to begin.

“Well guess again, you fucking dwarf scum.”

And done with playing now, Azog grabbed the blonde’s thighs and spread his cheeks apart, greasing the butt crack with a gob of beery spit. He took a deep breath, steadying himself for the rush of pleasure he knew soon awaited him.

The dark haired dwarf struggled once more, frantic to reach his brother in time to save him from the coming ordeal.

And the blonde understood the danger too – his legs tried to kick the pale orc, but the creature had neither the power nor the reach to do anything but provoke more laughter from the guards.

One stepped forward, and picked up the mock crown from where it had lain on the dirty floor.

“For the little prince.”

He winked at Azog, and put it back on the dwarf’s head.

Azog smiled, wishing again that Thorin Oakenshield could be here to watch him now.

How much would he beg to save his pretty young nephew? How much would he pay to secure his heir’s honour and virtue?

Maybe he’d even offer to trade places with the virgin prince, as if Azog would give up his jollies to appease Oakenshield’s woes and pains.

Oh no. Just thinking of that joker’s hurts made his victory taste even sweeter.

And just how sweet would it feel to break inside this beautiful blonde’s body and ruin him forever?

Below him, he heard the dwarf groaning in despair, trying in vain to shift away from the monstrous beasting he knew was coming.

Not even trying to be delicate, Azog slid his finger between the dwarf’s butt cheeks, this time digging deeper, and finding the pink, tender ass hole that he’d been craving to fill.

“Are you ready to take my meat, you little whore?”

He heard the lustiness on his voice, and realised he was finally about to fuck this pretty young tease once and for all.

“Are you ready to be _defiled?”_

He slid his finger inside the dwarf, earning a cry of alarm, and grunted in pleasure as he traced the inside of the blonde’s ring.

It was as tight and hot as he’d hoped.

Untouched. Unbroken.

It _quivered_ around his finger.

Gloriously fuckable.

“Are you ready to take my _seed_ , Fili?”

The dwarf tried to struggle free once more, but his asshole was skewered fast and he couldn’t move. The creature made a funny, choking sound as his body gave one last attempt at resistance. But it was as pitiful and doomed as he was.

“No, don’t. _Please_ , don’t.”

Azog ignored the pathetic protestations, and brought his straining cock between the dwarf’s butt cheeks, finding the stiff little ring with his swollen tip.

He began to apply pressure to the virgin hole.

Nice and slowly.

There was resistance from the dwarf’s body, but he knew he could break through it.

He spat again on the tight hole, and pushed his cock more forcefully, until he felt something yielding in the young muscle.

“No, no, _no!”_ the dwarf’s voice was desperate, and Azog heard the naked terror for the first time on the dwarf’s breath – this time he could not even attempt to hide it.

This time he knew he was _fucked_.

His hips tried to squirm free from the pale orc’s grip, but the action only served to rub his stretching ring around Azog’s cock.

The effect was luxurious, teasing.

The pale orc grunted, wondering how to best break into the creature’s body – whether to fill him up slow and sliding, or deep and hard. He was horny, and his cock throbbed for release, and most importantly – the dwarf’s cries for mercy were only turning him on.

With a groan of satisfaction, he pushed harder into the little prince, and felt the tight little ring slowly tearing open for his thick meaty cock.

He broke through, and drove deeply inside.

The dwarf’s body arched in pain and the creature wailed.

It was a squealing, animal howl that made Azog pile into him even harder a second time, sending the dwarf’s little body rigid with tension and hurt.

His asshole was so tight, and so juicy!

It was so warm, and unspoiled.

He couldn’t hold back any longer.

The dark haired dwarf cried out at the sight of his brother’s violation, and the guards laughed in good hearted mirth as the blond prince’s screams echoed round the room with every violent thrust.

Azog lifted the little slut up higher, wanting to claim every inch of the dwarf’s hole with his cock, and gave himself up fully to the glorious, brutal desire to rut.

To dominate.

“You like that, don’t you bitch?” His voice was a grunt. “Scream if you want it harder, whore.”

He grabbed the dwarf’s pelvis in his hand and fucked the creature as hard as he could, as deep as he could, aware that any second now he was going to explode in a glut of sticky ooze and fill this whore creature’s body with his spawn.

The dwarf’s body shook with every push, and all his helpless cries urged Azog to pound him harder.

“Fuck your line of Durin, Fili. You’re my bitch now – ”

The dwarf’s cries grew shrill, hysterical.

“ _Nooooo_ – ”

“Take my meat!”

“ _Please_ – ”

“You’re so fucking _fucked!”_

Azog felt the white hot pulse of delight as his cock rippled deep inside the dwarf’s butthole. He released the biggest load of hot, wet cum in a long and violent jet, feeling a burning sensation as it left his cock and coated the dwarf’s bowels.

There was definitely something potent in the seed.

It was exhausting to even shoot it out through his cock!

Azog sank to his knees, letting his dick relax and slide out of the blonde’s bloody, ruined body in a thick dribble of pink, sticky cum.

The dwarf dropped to the floor, his breathing laboured and pained, his ass still high in the air where he’d been savaged by the orc-cock, with trickles of blood and white cum running down his legs, and the wooden crown lopsided in his golden hair.

A fine picture of the royal House of Durin.

Azog stumbled to his feet and reached for the beer, savouring the glorious sight of the prince’s defilement.

The dark haired dwarf was staring in mute horror at his brother, unable to take his eyes off the grim spectacle.

But the blonde ignored them both, along with everyone else. He lay face down on the floor where he’d fallen.

His shoulders shook, and as he lifted his hands to hide his face, the toy crown rolled again to the floor.

Azog smiled at a job well done.

The dwarf had been impregnated with his seed now, and Azog was done with fucking him for tonight. He didn’t have the energy for an encore after blasting out all that potent seed!

He strode over to where the blonde lay trembling on the floor, and crouched down beside him.

He pulled on the creature’s hair, forcing him onto his knees, and grabbed the dwarf’s face.

The blonde wouldn’t look at him, but he saw nonetheless that the skin was reddened around those wide blue eyes, and that tears were trying to form already.

Already – and he’d only been fucked once!

“You belong to me now, Fili. Do you understand?”

He traced his hand over the dwarf’s wobbling lips, and finally the blue eyes met his.

All he saw there was shock. The former defiance was gone, wilted away with the dwarf’s dignity and honour.

His victory made him feel alive.

He pulled the dwarf’s face close, and pressed his lips to his. He forced his tongue into the little mouth, relishing the recoil in the dwarf’s shoulders as he sucked the blonde’s breath from him, although the creature did not pull away.

Perhaps he was too weak.

Or perhaps he no longer cared.

Azog broke away, and tenderly caressed the dwarf’s cheek, smirking at the frozen horror in the blue eyes.

“There will be no escape for you now, Fili.”

He traced his hand tenderly over the dwarf’s belly, and all the way down to the genitals.

“You’re going to be my little whelping bitch.”

He cupped the soft testes in his hand.

“Again – ”

He squeezed his hand, eliciting a groan.

“And again – ”

The dwarf’s groan intensified.

“And again.”

The dwarf shook his head suddenly, and moaned in protest.

“No, it can’t be true.”

The voice was just a thin whisper, almost inaudible, but Azog heard in it what he was looking for.

It was a broken sound, weary with pain and foreboding, and full of the promise of horrors still to come.

It was the sound of his forthcoming victory.

He rose to his feet, nodding at his guards that he was finished.

He knew the blonde dwarf would be numb now, and fairly unresponsive to further abuse from him, so best let others take his place – for a while.

There were other, fresher, sources of entertainment in here to begin on!

Azog cast a glance at the dark haired brother, and felt a surge of powerful malice...

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azog continues his degradations of the prisoners, and tries to barter Kili’s assistance in tormenting his brother for a tempting promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned – this contains more scenes of sexual and psychological abuse, so don’t read it if you’re feeling particularly depressed or down, because it probably won’t make you feel any better! The rest of this story isn’t all so relentlessly grim, but this is still one of the darker chapters.

**Azog**

He cast a glance at the brunette, still staring blankly at his ruined brother, and felt a surge of powerful malice.

“Well Kili, how did you like the look of that? Would you like some too?”

He strode over to the younger dwarf, smiling at the brunette’s twisted glare of loathing.

“I will fucking _kill_ you for this, Azog – I swear.”

The brunette seemed to be blinking back tears, caught in some lonely place between hate and misery.

Azog reached down and cupped the youth’s chin, wondering again at how hairless it was.

“If I had a golden nugget for every time I’ve heard that one!” The pale orc grinned at the dwarf. “I’d be as rich as Thorin Oakenshield. Although not as fat or miserable, I’d hope.”

He saw the dwarf wince at the mention of his uncle, and ruffled the youth’s hair.

“Tell me, did old Oakenshield ever take you across his knee and slip you his cock?”

The pale orc laughed at the brunette’s disgust.

“I bet he thought about it. With such pretty lads as you by his side. I bet he’s bashed his beef and thought about you loads. But you know what – nothing I’ve ever fucked was as _tight_ as your brother – your uncle missed a trick!”

The dwarf blinked and looked away, his eyes falling back to the broken blonde.

Azog twirled a strand of the black hair around his finger.

“You should give it a go, Kili. See how you like him...”

He smiled pointedly, meeting the brunette’s horrified glance.

The dwarf shuddered.

“I’ll _never_ touch him. I don’t care what you do to me. I’m not doing it!”

Azog nodded sagely.

“Yes, I suppose his hole is rather disgusting right now. Definitely a lot _looser_ than before. And full of orc _seed_.”

He leered down at the brunette, enjoying the youth’s revulsion.

“I tell you what, Kili – ”

He smacked the brunette across the cheek, and noticed Sulga throw him a warning look.

“ – how about you get your cock out too, and give him a gobble?”

The brunette sucked a breath in, and shook his head.

“No. I’m not playing these games with you. I’m not your plaything. My brother isn’t your toy! Stop it, just stop hurting him!”

Azog crouched down to the dwarf’s level, and grabbed at the thin garment the dwarf still wore.

“Come on, strip off, and get your cock out.”

His voice was gentle and reasonable.

“Or I’ll cut your brother’s off right now and make him eat that instead.”

The brunette stared up at him, his brown eyes incredulous.

“You _wouldn’t.”_

His voice was a whisper, full of doubt.

The pale orc shrugged.

“Of course I would. He has no use for it anymore. And if you do as I command... then perhaps I will make a deal with you, _Kili_ , son of _Dis_.”

He saw his niece’s black eyes glitter with curiosity, but she said nothing. She knew her place after all, even if she was going soft for the brunette’s cock.

Azog lowered his voice, talking gently to the dwarf. Like an old friend.

“I have some tasks for you, Kili. Do them for me, and I will let you go. You will be free to return to Erebor, to be with your friends, and you can forget all about this place and what I made you do here. No one need ever know.”

He saw the hunger in the dark brown eyes, the desolate longing for what was being promised. The temptation to flee from this torment was immense, but still, Azog suspected the brunette wouldn’t bite.

Not yet.

He needed to sweeten the deal.

The dwarf shook his head, unwilling to betray his brother.

“I’m not going anywhere without Fili. These things you want – whatever they are – maybe I might do them for you – but only if you promise to let us _both_ go. Let us both go unharmed.”

The dwarf’s lip stuck out petulantly, and Azog stifled the urge to punch him.

He pretended to consider.

“Very well, but I do have one condition.”

The brown eyes blinked, hardly daring to believe a way out was possible.

“I will let you and your brother go, unharmed. Well, _relatively_ unharmed – on one condition. You must write to your uncle, and convince him to come here, and to voluntarily take your place in my lair.”

Azog couldn’t hide the desire in his voice.

To fuck Thorin Oakenshield would be a prize he’d only dreamed of – and hopefully the nephew’s own words could offer powerful persuasion to make his old foe trade places with these young fools.

And of course, once the dwarf-lord was within his clutches, he’d renege on the deal. These pretty lads were his now, and would remain so forever, but the oh-so-honourable dwarf scum didn’t know that, did they? They always took their vows and honour so-very fucking seriously.

Which was why it was so much fun to torture them in the first place.

But Oakenshield might just be desperate enough to save his nephews that he’d agree...

The brunette was staring into space, shaking his head.

“He wouldn’t come. They wouldn’t let him. And even if he did, how do I know you’d release me or my brother? How do I know you wouldn’t keep us both in your dungeons, tormenting us for sport?”

He shook his head, getting angry now.

“Why would I want to put my uncle through that, for nothing?”

Azog smiled.

“But it wouldn’t be for nothing, would it silly? You’d be free. And without your uncle around, wouldn’t your Erebor need a new king? Do you really think your people would put this debased creature – ”, the orc gestured to the blonde, “ – on their throne? Of course not. Not now. They would pick you, Kili. You could be their king.”

He watched the brunette’s face for a sign of reaction, but there was none. Perhaps the lure of power and gold wasn’t the draw he’d reckoned for this sentimental sucker. His face darkened.

“And my threat still stands. Show your brother your cock, or I’ll cut his off right now.”

He watched and waited, part of him hoping the dwarf would disagree some more, so he could proceed with modifying his blonde prize already.

But the brunette appeared to be reconsidering his position, and with a sour, churlish face began stripping off the dirty undergarment.

“I will write to my uncle, as long as you’ll let us go. I swear it. Just tell me what to do.”

His voice was devoid of emotion, drained of the power to fight.

The fool was turning out to be a fast learner, given the right form of encouragement!

Azog watched the dwarf undress, and wondered again whether to fuck this one today too. His niece would be cross, but she’d get over it. Her interest in this pretty young dwarf didn’t strike him as being entirely healthy to begin with – but then again, who was he to judge? As long as she opened her legs for him, she was free to fold her whore box round whatever dicks came knocking.

She was watching him now, with those expressionless black eyes, and Azog chose to stay on her good side.

For now.

Instead, he reached out to rummage round the brunette’s undercarriage, gripping the long, pale shaft with his good hand.

The dwarf gasped in surprise, and was forced to trot along as Azog led him firmly towards his brother by pulling on his cock.

The pale orc dropped down beside the dark prince’s ear, and whispered seductively.

“Tell him you want him to suck you. Tell him he has no choice. But do not under any circumstances tell him about our deal, or the deal is off.”

The brunette stared brokenly at his brother, his face nervous.

“But – what will he think of me?”

Azog ran his fingers through the thick black hair, still silky to the touch despite his days’ imprisonment.

“That’s the whole point, Kili. Make him think you want him. Make him think you want to fuck him. Or I will _hurt_ him.”

The dark eyes stared back at him in anguish, and Azog felt his dick stiffening again.

“Do it, Kili. Do it now. Make him gobble your cock. I want to watch.”

The dwarf took another look at the blonde on the floor. The creature was still lying with his hands round his head, seemingly oblivious to everything but his own misery.

Azog put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, in warning.

“I don’t want him to enjoy it, Kili. Make him hate you. Make him beg you to stop. That’s the way to make me happy. And I need to be happy to complete our little deal.”

The dwarf glowered back.

“I know exactly what you want, Azog. Don’t worry about that.”

The dwarf crouched down beside his brother, and took hold of the blonde’s head. He swallowed thickly.

“Fili, it’s me. I need you to get up.”

The blonde head stirred as he recognised his brother’s voice. Seemingly dazed, he opened his blue eyes wide when he saw the pale orc standing close beside his younger brother.

He came to life with a gasp.

“Kili, are you alright? What’s he done to you?”

Azog saw the blonde reach out and clutch his brother’s hands, on the defensive immediately.

He stifled a smile, watching the brunette struggle to compose himself. He’d dropped his brother’s hand and risen to his feet, and was standing in front of his brother now.

Cock out.

“I’m fine, Fili. But, I need you to do something for me...”

Azog saw understanding dawn on the blonde’s pale face, and felt those blue eyes return to him, eyeing him coldly. There was an icy anger there that he hadn’t seen before, and for a second he was troubled.

Already, the blonde was wise to his plans.

And he still had the nerve to glare at his master with that wilful contempt.

Not that it mattered, really. Not unless he enjoyed cock-gobbling his younger brother.

And Azog had an idea that should put that blue fire out once and for all.

The dark haired dwarf hadn’t noticed his brother’s realisation, and was still searching for the right words.

“I need you to...”

His voice broke, and Azog grinned back at the blonde. Victory was still his.

“I need...”

“It’s okay, Kili.”

“But – ”

“Remember what I told you. Don’t make things hard for yourself.”

Azog watched in amusement as the blonde shuffled onto his knees and reached out a shaky hand for his brother’s penis.

He stared at it for a second, as if considering what he should do.

“Fili – ”

The brunette seemed to be on the verge on crying, but the blonde stilled him by taking his hand.

“It’s okay, Kili.”

The blonde brought his lips to his brother’s dick, and kissed it lightly.

The brunette shut his eyes, and Azog wondered whether he was focusing on the sensation, or trying to block it out completely.

“Fili, I’m sorry.”

The blonde squeezed his hand, and kissed his brother’s dick again. And this time, he closed his blue eyes and gripped the shaft properly.

He began to work his hand up and down his brother’s cock, kissing the head softy, as if he was trying to soothe his brother’s feelings with his gentle touch.

Azog watched, wondering whether to intervene and force that golden head onto his own thickening prick.

The brunette was tense and unhappy, his dick still soft in his brother’s grip. But the blonde was loosening up now himself, seemingly resigned to doing his job correctly – no matter how dirty and degrading that job was.

He let his brother’s hand slip, and instead slid his hand around the back of the brunette’s thigh. A gesture of comfort. Of support.

“Kili, just relax.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry!”

The brunette shook his head, his voice trembling.

The blonde stared up at his brother, checking his reactions, and took a deep breath. He flicked his tongue out and took the first taste of his brother’s meat. And finding that he didn’t gag, he licked at the rounded head of the penis with some effort.

The brunette groaned, but Azog couldn’t tell whether the sound came from pleasure or from pain.

His dwarf cock was hardening now, nonetheless. The blonde was having to slide his hand faster to keep the thing from slipping from his hand.

“Fili, I – ” he groaned, surprise on his face now.

He gasped as his brother took his cock fully into his mouth. The brunette seemed to sway on his feet.

And aware of his brother’s arousal now, the blonde gripped him tighter. Maybe he was determined to not let the brunette stop and think about what was happening. Or maybe the little slut was starting to enjoy it too. He sucked on the pink cock’s head and slid one hand up and down his brother’s greasy shaft, gripping the brunette’s butt with the other.

“Make him do it,” Azog growled.

He tugged at his own chubby prick, needing something rougher to get his blood going.

“Make him gag on it.”

The brunette stared down at his brother, and reached his hands into the blonde’s tangle of braids.

“Fili... please, I need it harder.”

His voice was ragged, and the blonde opened his eyes to look at him, as if uncertain what to do.

“Do it harder, Fili.”

The brunette clutched his brother’s head now, leading the rhythm himself as he jerked his brother’s mouth up and down his slimy cock.

His face creased up, and he moaned under his breath.

Azog watched the pair of them. He’d initially been unsure of who was hating this task the most, but it was obvious now.

He wanted to see the finale.

He stroked himself harder, seeing the brunette’s face reddening as he forced his brother to take him faster. To take him harder. And to take him deeper into the back of his little mouth.

He was loving getting gobbled by his big brother.

“Face fuck that bitch, Kili.”

The brunette’s shoulders tensed, and he groaned in shock.

He was obviously close now.

“Come on his face,” Azog purred. “I want to see it.”

With a shudder, the brunette took his cock in hand, and out from his brother’s lips. He held the blonde’s head in one hand, and his shaft in the other.

And obediently, the blonde continued to lick the tip of his brother’s cock. His eyes were closed, concentrating on making this work end as soon as he could.

Almost willing his brother to come now.

The brunette swayed again, and panted quickly.

His knob was pulsating, pumping out thick white slime in creamy bursts – all over his brother’s lips and face.

The brunette cried out in abandon, his voice trembling and dying away suddenly with the guilt of his orgasm.

He opened his eyes and stared down at his brother in anguish.

Azog saw the blue eyes of the dwarf were emotionless and blank, even as his brother’s seed dribbled down his lips and moustache.

The brunette sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Fili. I’m so – ”

“It’s okay, Kili.”

The blonde’s voice was flat and resigned. He dropped hold of his brother, and swallowed thickly. He tried to wipe the semen from his face with a trembling hand.

Azog grinned, and waddled over to intrude.

He grabbed hold of the blonde’s hair, and angled the face towards his own crotch.

“My turn now, you filthy whore.”

The blonde stared up at him, dismay on his face.

“My cock’s been up your tight little ass, dwarf. Give it a nice clean like a good bitch should.”

He saw the blonde close his eyes in shame, savouring the way his head drooped helplessly at this new demand.

And insisting, he tugged at the blonde locks until those shaking hands took hold of his bigger, bloodied cock. The dwarf was obviously unwilling, but the little slut was learning his place and didn’t try to resist.

Aware that the brunette had turned away in remorse, Azog felt the moral victory was rightfully his. All he needed now was to show the younger dwarf the reality of what he’d just done to his brother, and his lesson would be complete.

He let the blonde wrap his warm lips around his prick – he had to open his small mouth wide to fit the huge organ inside – and then settled back as the creature worked at his shaft obediently.

Azog wondered how many dicks this dwarf had sucked – he was good at this. Maybe old Oakenshield had taught his nephews more than either of them were letting on. Or maybe the dwarf thought his hole would be spared another roasting if his mouth did all the hard work?

As if anything would spare his ass now!

“Suck it down good, my little prince.”

The dwarf complied without a word, and Azog watched his whore blonde head bob up and down the shaft, his face still sticky from his brother’s spunk. It was a sight he wished he could preserve forever, and send by raven-mail straight to Oakenshield. The dwarf king would no doubt be furiously jealous to see his best cocksucker working for the enemy after all his years of hard training, but the rest of the dwarf scum should be given the chance to see what their golden-haired royal heir was now reduced to.

Sucking orc cocks on his knees like a traitor slut.

The blonde gagged as Azog pushed his cock too far down his throat, and the tickling feeling made Azog want to come suddenly.

“You’re such a fucking whore.”

He thought about spraying his cockslime all over the creature’s face, but decided he wanted this bitch to eat it. To choke on it.

“Swallow me, dwarf.”

Azog could feel the creature trying to break away, and gripped his golden head harder.

“Choke it down.”

He felt the dwarf’s throat begin to gag violently, and the sensation tipped him over the edge. He let himself go deep inside the dwarf’s throat, holding the blonde’s face fast against his sweaty scrotum so the creature was forced to swallow down his stinging orc-cum.

“Drink it up, you slag.”

Satisfied he’d unloaded everything, he watched the dwarf’s face as he struggled between breathing and swallowing down the rancid cock-batter. His blue eyes bulged, but Azog held his head close in place until he was sure everything had been taken in by the golden-haired prince.

He released the dwarf, who coughed and gasped for air with a cry. And with a smile, the pale orc dried his cock off carefully on the long blonde tresses of the creature’s loosening braids.

“You’re good at that, Fili. You’re going to be doing a _lot_ more of that from now on.”

The dwarf dropped to his hands and knees, retching on the floor.

“But first, you’re going to get better acquainted with my guards.”

Azog gestured to the blonde, signalling it was now playtime. The brunette stared at him, distraught.

“But you said you wouldn’t hurt him!”

Azog turned to the younger brother, and patted him on the head.

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him _much_. He was a virgin – he needs to catch up.” His eyes turned back to the blonde, taking in the way the creature heaved and groaned in wretched disgust. “He needs to learn how to show his master some respect, and keep my cum down.”

He nodded at Sulga.

“Take this one away and have him write to his uncle. The sooner we have Oakenshield here the better.”

His niece came to the brunette’s side, and offered him a hand.

“Come with me, princeling. You don’t want to see the rest of this.”

Azog smiled wickedly.

“No. But even from your cell, you might still _hear_ it.”

He watched as the first guard moved into position behind the prone blonde, removing his loincloth and greasing up his big grey erection.

“No!” The brunette cried, even as Sulga led him to the door and out of the room. “Stop it, stop it, _please!”_

But Azog didn’t listen.

He sat at his table, pumping his shaft once more, as the first of his many guards bent behind the pretty heir of Erebor, still lying coughing on the floor.

The guard grabbed him, and the blonde turned in panic as he felt the scaly hands pinning him down.

“What? _No, please!”_

Azog watched the guard line himself up to thrust savagely into the prince, and smiled.

The dwarf’s screams began again in earnest.

“That’s right. Fuck him good and hard.”

The pale orc pumped his meat and licked his lips. He smiled at the other three guards – all watching the thrilling display with jealous eyes.

“You can have at him soon, lads. Everyone will get a turn.”

When they were done, he would call in the others too – all twenty would get a shot at the royal whore tonight. And they’d go at him long and hard, he knew from past experience.

Not that they didn’t deserve it – they’d not fucked any prisoners for weeks now, and their balls must be like rocks!

Azog’s eyes roved over the defiled dwarf prince, noting how his blue eyes fluttered open with every stab of the guard’s cock. How his tender pink lips parted with every single thrust, and how the pitch of his scream swelled in time with every violation – even as the little braids on his face bounced off his cheeks.

Beautiful.

Even amidst all his pain and torment, the dwarf prince was still beautiful. And it was a beauty that Azog meant to ruin, even if he had to carve that pretty face up and shatter every bone in the young prince’s body to make it so. Even if he had to slice into that flesh, and peel every inch of skin from sinew, so he could make a dwarf-skin fuck-doll from the prince’s soft blonde hide.

To make that beauty _his._

He took a sip of his beer, and settled into his comfy chair.

But for now, it was great to just unwind with a well-deserved beer and let his guards have some fun. He had all the time in the world to enact his full plans on the two pretty princes, and tonight was just the beginning of their destruction.

It was just the beginning of _Oakenshield’s_ destruction.

And it was going to be a long and enjoyable night!

He held on to his beer, watching the blue eyes of the dwarf as they opened and closed in agony, and beating his meat to the sensuous rhythm of his enemy’s violent ruin.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Bilbo visit Bard in Laketown, while Fili and Kili are reunited in their cell – but not before Sulga has had her chance to put some wicked fairytales into Kili’s head.

 

**Kili**

  
The pen shook in his hand again, and he had to put it down.

He was in no mood for writing letters.

He was in the mood for _killing_ after what they’d done to his brother. What they’d made _him_ do to his brother. He would destroy them all for this, he swore to the gods themselves!

_Oh Mahal, please. Forgive me, Fili._

He shook his head.

So many thoughts spun around, it exhausted him.

The usual, draining terror was there at the back of his mind, as it always was of late – and the anger flashing red and black behind his eyes, intense and overwhelming. The hate. The disgust. The searing, hot fury he felt at those beasts for hurting his brother...

But there was something else too, and it scared him more than the rest did.

It made him worry that, despite his physical helplessness in the midst of this torment, he was finally starting to lose control of himself.

Of his own mind.

Of his own free will.

_Mahal, be merciful!_

When Sulga had taken him away, she’d told him of a way he could help his brother, and it frightened him.

It was a dark idea, an evil idea – one whose poisonous tendrils were even now swirling dangerously around his heart, wrapping his desires up in their malign clutches and squeezing him until the breath stuck in his throat and his chest beat with a horrible flow that he recognised from the depths of his nightmares.

It was enticing though.

Alluring.

A stirring siren’s song, that he knew could not be trusted, but that moved him to strange places that he had seen before in dreams.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was damned either way, and he was dead either way too – so what did it really matter, in the end?

What could he really do?

He picked up the pen again, shaking his head, and dropped it back down as the breath caught in his throat and the tears threatened his vision.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

  
**Bilbo**

  
The wind was howling and the rain lashed down on the lakeside, and the morose little hobbit shivered. Winter was fast approaching, and this place was too exposed to the wind for his liking. The people who lived on this scrubby shoreline were all stern faced and sullen, and he could see why.

Their little wooden houses must be freezing. Even the ones that were still standing after the dragon fire.

He was ready to run back to Erebor and jump into a nice hot bath already, and there was only one thought that stopped him.

The picture in his mind of his friends’ smiling faces.

Fili and Kili needed Thorin’s help. And Thorin needed the Laketown men’s help.

And that meant Thorin – and Fili and Kili – needed _his_ help, to keep Thorin’s temper under control and show him in a sympathetic light in front of this scowling audience.

The King of Laketown was inviting them into his humble abode. And it really was pretty humble – just another one of the grotty crannogs lining the lakeshore, open to the wind and without so much as a tin bathtub in sight.

But at least it still had a roof, unlike some of the neighbouring hovels.

“My lord king, my lord hobbit – welcome to my throne room.”

The thin man with the deep blue eyes nodded at his guests, and gestured to a couple of wicker chairs surrounding a small table.

“Would either of you like some tea? My daughter is brewing up just now.”

Thorin looked disappointed, and Bilbo knew he’d been expecting some ale. Quickly he nodded at the tall, dark man and smiled graciously.

“Thank you, your majesty. We have had a long and cold walk down to the lake here.”

The man sat back in his chair, regarding them sceptically.

“I must say, my lords, we were not expecting any guests to be requesting a visit at such short notice. Especially ones of _such stature_ as yourselves.”

He leaned forward, studying the pair, and Bilbo felt for a second the man could see right into his thoughts with those piercing blue eyes.

He was not unattractive – the man had probably been considered rather beautiful once, when he was younger. Before that hard, unsettlingly vacant look had appeared within the deep sea of blue in those hard, stony eyes, maybe.

He smiled at them sardonically.

“I would have got some beer in if I’d known I was entertaining mountain-folk.”

Beside him, Thorin shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Bard, I’m sorry for the trouble we have caused. You can count on it. _All_ of the trouble.”

The dwarf-lord’s voice was grim, and Bilbo wondered how much it hurt his lover to utter those hateful apologies to a man like Bard.

To anyone, really.

But the man appeared unmoved by Thorin’s appeasement, and stared out of his hut at the grey swirling waters of the angry lake.

“I understand, my lord. But many of my people have died on account of you and your people’s actions. And while you may have paid your dues to us, gold is but a poor substitute for missing loved ones.”

The dwarf-lord swallowed, and Bilbo saw his face reddening.

“Forgive me, my king, but I know that only too well. It is the very reason why I have come here today, at such a late hour. Though it pains me to say it. I need your help.”

The deep blue eyes of the former bargeman fixed on Thorin with a look of incredulity.

“You need _my_ help?”

There was an angry undercurrent in the air, as the man’s eyes froze over into an outright glare.

Bilbo glanced nervously between the two of them – both sitting upright and staring in cold hostility at each other, and wondered if the visit might really descend into another fight already. It was the last thing anyone needed.

How could he make Thorin understand that there was no time for such stubborn pride?

“Here’s your tea, your holiness.”

The dwarf-lord glanced up at the girl, momentarily distracted.

Bard’s daughter smiled beatifically down on the trio at the table, standing there with a steaming tray of tea and a sugar bowl. She was a girlish form of everything Bilbo imagined her father must have been like as a youth, and the king of Laketown’s icy face thawed somewhat in her presence.

“It’s _highness_ , my dear. He’s only a dwarf king, not the city high priestess.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh, _you’re_ the king on top of the mountain. It’s nice to meet you, Mr Oakenshield! I met your nephews when they stayed here. They saved me from some orcs. And from that dragon. They were both so nice! Are they coming for tea too? I can put some more water on the stove!”

Bard shrugged apologetically at Thorin, and reached to take the cup and saucer from his daughter.

“My daughter just turned fifteen. She took a shine to both your nephews. I must admit, they were not what I was expecting. Nothing like you, anyway.”

To Bilbo’s amazement, the dwarf-king put his hands to his face.

“No, you are right – they _are_ nothing like me. It’s true.”

He rubbed at his eyes, as if wiping away a tear, and sniffed in distress.

“They are both so kind and good, and I love them as if they were my own sons!”

The hobbit leant closer to the dwarf-king, and put an arm around his shoulder, hoping he had packed the emergency handkerchief in his pocket.

The girl looked confused.

“Are you alright, Mr Oakenshield?”

But the dwarf king shook his head sadly, staring down at the table.

“No, my child. I’m not. My nephews are gone. They have been taken by an orc-lord to the south, and he means to hurt them in ways I cannot begin to describe to one so young and gentle.”

Bilbo heard the tray of china cups and saucers begin to clatter and shake, and saw the heartache blossoming on the young girl’s face.

“You mean they are... prisoners? Of... _those creatures?”_

Her voice was hushed, frightened, and her eyes scanned the faces around the table, searching for a sign she’d misunderstood.

Bilbo cleared his throat.

“I’m afraid you’re right, my lady. They are both in terrible danger. And that is why they we have come here.”

He stared around the table, and saw the vacant blue eyes of the king of Laketown, regarding his daughter thoughtfully.

Beside him, Thorin sighed.

“My friend here speaks the truth. We have come to ask for your help. For any help you can give. And I ask that help not for my own sake, or for that of my people, but for my family, Bard. For my nephews. For the future.”

The dwarf-lord’s voice was pleading, and the king of Laketown eyed him sharply.

“Dad, please. We have to help them. They’re my _friends._ You said we should always help our friends in need and stick together!”

The three pairs of eyes stared silently at the king of Laketown, watching his inscrutable face as his gaze shifted beyond them all to the churning waves on the grey lake.

“Understand Thorin, this is a difficult decision for me. And it is not for your gold, or riches, or even for you that I would offer my assistance.”

The clear blue gaze returned to his daughter, and the man nodded.

“But I do not believe in punishing the innocent for the crimes of their fathers. Or for their uncles, for that matter. I can give you one hundred men to march south. Will that be enough?”

Bilbo felt his lover’s body soften in relief.

“It is more than I had dared hope for, Bard. I swear, I will _make_ it enough. How can I ever thank you for this?”

The king of Laketown smiled enigmatically.

“You can bring your nephews back to Erebor, Thorin. Safe and sound. I don’t want to have to add my daughter’s tears to your list of crimes against this town. We’ve all suffered enough.”

Bilbo watched his lover extend a grateful hand to their new friend.

“You have my word on it.”

And with a thin smile, the dwarf king nodded to the girl, her face pale and worried.

“I’ll bring them both home, I promise you. And you’ll be having them round for tea here soon, my lady – and they will both be very glad to see your sweet face again.”

  
\--------------------------------------------------

  
**Sulga**

  
She settled down in the secret chamber, as quietly as she could, and waited.

She’d set out some fresh candles so that Kili’s cell was no longer dark – she wanted to be able to see his face, after all, and he was supposed to write to his uncle with the pen and parchment she’d given him. He’d been naked when she took him from her uncle earlier – naked and cold, but she’d even been thoughtful enough to leave him a thin woollen blanket so he could cover himself and stay warm in the dank dungeon cell.

And she’d left him a basin of water boiled with herbs to clean himself with. His body had not smelt so pleasant earlier on, and she’d thought he’d like to bathe himself.

But had her little brunette shown any gratitude for her generous kindnesses?

No.

All she’d received for her efforts had been a muted ‘thank you’ and a shake of the head.

He was worried about his brother, this she knew. And it made him distracted, and less inclined to pay his attention to her as he should.

Unfortunately, since her uncle had taken a fancy to the stuck-up blonde, there was no chance she could remove the distraction and slash its throat with her fingernails.

She wondered how else she might improve her little brunette’s mood.

His brother was not going to cheer up any time soon – oh no. So either Kili would have to learn to ignore his brother’s pessimism, or he’d have to learn to enjoy it.

Her uncle had suggested a thing or two to her when they’d spoken earlier, and Sulga was game. Kili trusted her, and what was the point in a bit of trust if it couldn’t be the basis for some thoughtful abuse?

And the little dwarf had listened to her words, that she knew – she just didn’t know whether he’d taken in the message.

But she would find out soon enough.

She heard a noise, further down the corridor, and smiled to herself as the door to Kili’s cell was thrown open, and two guards came shuffling in.

They were dragging the blonde behind them. And what a sight he was!

“Fili – oh Mahal! What have you done to him?”

The brunette staggered towards the guards, as if he meant to punch them, but they pushed him aside and dumped the blonde at his feet.

The larger of the guards winked down at Kili and adjusted his loincloth.

“Best fuck I had in ages. Never stuck it in a prince before. Can’t wait to see whether you scream as hard when I stick it in you!”

But her little brunette was already getting to his knees beside his brother, oblivious to the guards’ taunts.

“Fili, it’s me! Can you hear me?”

The guards turned and laughed, locking the door firmly behind them.

The shadows in the cell seemed to lengthen now the door was firmly sealed. And the little brunette gave a small sob as he cradled his injured brother.

The blonde’s eyes were shut, but whether he was unconscious, she couldn’t tell. One of his eyes was swollen and purple, and there were red marks down the side of his face where he’d been struck.

His body was worse. There was dark blood smeared between his legs, and a latticework of red cuts to his chest and arms, as if from a scourge. And he was covered in filth. Whatever golden shine had been in his hair was gone. His hair was matted, dirty. The braids had all come undone.

The brunette ran one hand down his brother’s cheek, searching for a response.

“Please, Fili. Say something.”

The blonde opened his eyes and tried to focus on his brother.

“Kili. It’s you.”

The brunette clutched at the blonde’s face, stroking a hand through the dirty locks of hair.

“I’ll kill them for what they’ve done to you. For what they made _me_ do to you.”

His voice was low, full of anger. Sulga had to stifle a giggle, given the unpromising circumstances surrounding the dwarf’s threat.

“Kili, it’s alright. I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault.”

The blonde’s voice was thin and hoarse.

He tried to sit up, but one of his knees twisted beneath him, and his younger brother had to catch him to prevent his fall.

“Let me clean you up, Fili. Let me look at you.”

Without opening his eyes, the blonde submitted to his brother’s attentions. He lay there as Kili dabbed at him with the damp cloth, wiping away the blood, sweat and orc slime that covered his body.

Wiping away the dried traces of his own cum from his brother’s face, without a single word.

Until finally the brunette was satisfied that his brother was clean.

“I know he’s hurt you, Fili. And I have too. I wish I could help. I wish I could fix things for you.”

Sulga watched as the blonde managed a weak smile.

“I _told_ you, Kili. I don’t mind. It’s better he does it to me than to you.”

The brunette shook his head.

“I know. So you keep saying. But _I_ mind. I can’t stand this happening to you.”

“That’s how he wants you to feel, Kili. Don’t let him beat you.”

Her brunette shook his head.

“Never. He’ll never get away with this, I swear.”

The blue eyes opened suddenly, and a troubled look flitted over the dwarf’s weary features.

“He said something about our uncle, Kili? When we were back there. He told you something.”

The brunette leaned in close to his brother, and wrapped the thin woollen blanket around the pair of them.

“He told me if I ... _did_ what I did to you. Then he would let us go. Provided our uncle agrees to take our place in here. As if Thorin would ever be mad enough to agree!”

The blonde shivered, and his brother held him closer.

“He’d never hold to the deal anyway, Kili. He’ll never let us go. Not anymore. Our uncle can’t save us in here, not now! No one can!”

His voice had risen to a pitch of panic, and the blonde closed his eyes, resignation written on his face.

His brother looked at him carefully.

“Do you believe him. What he said he’d done to you?”

The blonde groaned.

“I don’t know, Kili. I don’t think we should trust _anything_ he says. But I think he _meant_ it.”

The blue eyes locked on his brother’s, desperate and wild.

“I do think he meant what he said. And what if it _is_ true? Oh Mahal, what’s going to happen to me _if it’s true?”_

The brunette said nothing, but pulled his brother closer.

He let the blonde’s head rest gently on his shoulder, and raised a hand to the damp tresses.

“I’m going to write to our uncle, Fili. I’m going to tell him what’s happened. He’ll come for us, you know he will. He won’t just let this happen to us. And _I_ won’t let this happen to you!”

But the miserable blonde sighed.

“You can’t _stop_ him, Kili. You can’t help me. Don’t try and resist him, please! Just let him have what he wants. It will hurt you less that way.”

The brunette shook his head.

“He hasn’t won, not yet. If I thought you were beyond help, Fili, I’d kill you myself right now. But I won’t. I can’t. Because there’s still hope. We might still escape – I’m... working on it for you.”

He reached a hand to his brother’s face, and stroked it gently down the bruised cheek.

“Don’t give up, Fili. If you give up, then who’s going to look after me?”

The blue eyes blinked, and the blonde sighed.

“I’m sorry. I just... don’t feel like myself anymore, Kili.”

The brown eyes stared back, full of remorse.

“I _need_ you, Fili. I need you to be yourself. Please try. Whatever he’s done to you – whatever _I’ve_ done to you – we’ll fix it. Just remember who you are.”

The blue eyes widened in alarm.

“Who I am? But that makes it worse. What would they all think, Kili? If they knew what had happened? If they saw what they all did to me? What would they think of _me?_ What would they think of our family?”

The little brunette cradled his brother, shaking his head.

“Everyone loves you, Fili. They know you better than that. If we ever get out of here, nobody could ever be angry with you. Nobody would ever judge you.”

But the blonde’s eyes were distant.

“They’ve _ruined_ me, Kili. Everyone will know. And if it’s _true_ – what he said – ?”

The little brunette stared at the floor.

“Fili, there might be a way to stop it. If it _is_ true. Sulga told me she’d heard there was a way, written on the same manuscript...”

The blue eyes were staring at him intently, but it only seemed to make the brunette more uncomfortable.

“Go on, Kili. What must I do?”

The little brunette gave a heavy sigh.

“It’s what _I_ would have to do, Fili. She said the only way to counteract the spell, before it set in, was with... _dwarf_ seed.”

Sulga watched as all the hope on the blonde’s face evaporated at his brother’s words. He stared at Kili in horror.

“You mean _you_ would have to...”

The brunette nodded.

“I know. It’s a stupid idea. I couldn’t do it, I could never do that to – ”

“But Kili, what if she’s right? What if it is the only way?”

The brothers looked at one another, despair on both their faces. There was a horrible, awkward pause, and Sulga wondered whether her uncle had underestimated the sanctimonious sense of honour these fool dwarves seemed to possess.

“Fili,” the little brunette took a deep breath, “I couldn’t do it. Not to you.”

The blonde shook his head bitterly.

“Well then you’re the only one in this fucking castle who can’t! Why did you tell me this, if you won’t help me?”

The brunette struggled to find words.

“I want to help you. But maybe there’s some other way, maybe – ”

“Kili, please. Just do it.”

The brunette met his brother’s eyes, his cheeks flushing red.

“I don’t think I _can_ do it, Fili.”

His brother sighed, exasperated now.

“Just close your eyes, Kili. Pretend I’m someone else. Some elf maid you fancy. Please.”

The brunette blinked and closed his eyes.

“If you insist, then I’ll try. But I don’t think I can – ”

The dwarf broke off as his brother’s lips locked on his.

Sulga watched, fascinated now, as the blonde brother kissed her little brunette with a slow sensuality she’d not have expected from one in his position. There was a firmness to the blonde’s kiss – an insistent gentleness that his brother seemed to respond to, that puzzled her.

Under the blanket, she saw the blonde’s hand move towards his brother.

She heard Kili gasp, his lips breaking away from his brother’s as he struggled for breath.

“Fili, you’re scaring me. I can’t do this.”

The blonde reached his hand to his brother’s face.

“I’m scared too, Kili. I’m really scared.”

He traced his hand down the brunette’s cheek, and touched his forehead to his brother’s in appeal.

“Please help me. And I will never tell a soul.”

The brunette nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I want to help you.”

He closed his eyes, seeming to steel himself, and his brother eyed him doubtfully, before shaking his own head in misery.

The brothers sat there for a moment, each unwilling to be the first to initiate this most degrading of acts.

But finally, with his eyes firmly closed, the blonde kissed his brother lightly, and reached his hand under the blanket again.

Sulga watched his arm working at her little brunette, out of sight, and saw the tension building in the younger brother’s body.

Suddenly Kili kissed his brother back, with an ardour that seemed to take the blonde by surprise.

Sulga saw the older dwarf’s shock as the little brunette kissed at his throat and pressed against his body. A look of fright flashed in his blue eyes, and she smiled cruelly.

“How... how do want me, Kili?”

“Lie back, Fili. Don’t say anything.”

The blonde looked worried, but allowed his brother to push him back onto the floor.

Kili suddenly sat up, and the blanket fell away, revealing his naked body to her gaze. His organ was swollen already, and she felt a stab of jealousy as her pretty brunette draped his head over his brother’s belly and kissed his pale, freckled stomach.

“I don’t want you hurt you, Fili. I need you relaxed.”

His lips traced down and kissed the tip of his brother’s cock, and the blonde stiffened in surprise.

“You don’t have to do that, Kili – you shouldn’t – ”

“Shh, I told you to be quiet.”

The blonde groaned as his brother took his penis fully in hand and kissed it tenderly. His face was a picture of trepidation, as if he couldn’t quite give in to the sensations his little brother was making him feel. He knew it was wrong, and it shamed him all the more that he was enjoying it, she could tell.

She glared at her little brunette, wondering why he’d taken it upon himself to try and pleasure his brother like this. He hadn’t offered her this level of service when he’d fucked her – she’d had to ask for it!

This most definitely _was not_ part of the tale she’d told him.

She couldn’t even tell what he was thinking – his pretty face was hidden in his brother’s groin, where his black silky hair was spilling over onto the dark blonde curls of his sibling’s thighs.

She bet he was loving it, the sick bastard.

She would make him pay for this!

But at least her uncle’s plan was working.

The blonde closed his eyes, his forehead creased in concentration, as his brother’s head bobbed up and down his shaft. She could hear the wet noise of Kili’s lips, and the quickening of his brother’s breath through her little spyhole, and felt her anger rising with the blonde dwarf’s cock.

“Kili, you should do it, do it now.”

The blonde’s whispered pleas must have reached his brother, for the brunette rose to his knees and took his brother’s hips in hand, spreading his legs to find what he was searching for.

Sulga saw the look of flushed determination on Kili’s face, and knew he was close to losing it.

He was angling himself astride his brother’s thighs, holding onto Fili’s legs to open him up, with a dark look of concentration that made her juices flow. He’d never looked at _her_ like that.

There was no doubt he was wanting to do this, and she knew he was savouring it, just as he’d savoured the earlier cock sucking that he’d freely supplied.

Her words had worked alright.

But maybe her story was just a convenient excuse.

She could tell, even if he couldn’t.

The blonde stared up at his brother, his mouth open in shock.

“Don’t hurt me Kili.”

The brunette dwarf bent down to suck on his brother’s cock one last time.

“I’ll never hurt you, Fili.”

The blue eyes closed, and Sulga heard the blonde sigh in agitation.

And smoothly, the brunette lowered his hips across his older brother’s, ready to take him as his lover. He found his brother’s passage with the tip of his organ, and tested how resistant he was to this new penetration.

The blonde struggled suddenly, the sensation triggering nothing but fear in his body.

“It’s okay, Fili. It’s me. I’ll be gentle.”

At his brother’s words, the blonde stilled long enough to allow the brunette to enter him in an easy push.

The blonde’s face contorted in pain once more.

“It hurts, Kili. You’re hurting me.”

“Relax, please Fili!”

“Maybe you should stop,” the blonde’s voice was panicked, desperate. “It’s not right, what we’re doing, it’s not – ”

“None of this is right. But you know I have to do this.”

The blonde closed his eyes, and groaned softly as his brother filled him up.

“Stop it, Kili. Please. I don’t like how it feels.”

But the brunette slid inside his brother once more, and gasped himself.

“I’ll be gentle. I’ll be quick.”

“Please, Kili!”

“I want to help you, Fi.”

The blonde only moaned in response, and the brunette leant down to kiss his brother’s lips.

His kiss was returned, and Sulga raised her eyebrows at the evident hunger in the embrace. The blonde wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this. That wasn’t the plan!

But here he was, letting himself be used like a common slut, while Kili’s eyes were half closed and his hands wandered over his older brother’s pliant body.

Caressing him. _Loving_ him.

The blonde gasped for breath, his face flushing crimson as his brother pushed him towards his breaking point.

“You shouldn’t do this to me, Kili. You shouldn’t make me feel like this – ”

“I have to, Fili – oh Mahal!”

The brunette’s face trembled and he bit his lip.

“I’m nearly there now – ”

The blonde groaned and gripped his brother’s hips. Sulga couldn’t tell if he was trying to push his brother off, or pull him closer inside himself.

“Kili, no...”

The brunette groaned at his name, thrusting harder into his brother now.

“I can’t stop Fi – !”

“No!”

“I don’t want to stop!”

“Kili – !”

The blonde gasped in delight as the brunette sank into him, and Sulga saw his cock suddenly twitch and burst with white seed as he cried out in pleasure and shame. Cried out his brother’s name.

The brunette drove harder, letting himself earn his relief, and his voice broke in a choked-off groan as he released his own load of semen into his brother’s yielding body.

He collapsed on top of the blonde, closing his eyes without a word.

The two of them lay there, red in the face and struggling for breath, but unable to look at each other as the enormity of their coupling hit them. The sweet pleasure they’d found in each other’s bodies could only be a source of pain, and with their limbs entangled and covered in each other’s cum there was no hiding from the line they had crossed.

The brunette was the first to get up. He slowly returned to his knees, and shuffled backwards towards the washbowl.

The blonde took the blanket, and drew it around himself without a word.

And a lonely silence fell on the cell, as the two brothers each tried to forget the sick joy they’d just taken in their forbidden union, and the desperate need for more comfort that had been awoken in their tortured hearts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter was not as traumatic as others have been! I guess you can see where I am going with this now...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulga decides to teach Kili a lesson, and Fili worries for his brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a twisted chapter, I have to say – there’s some sexual abuse and pretty dark themes involved, but I think the effect is a bit more surreal than nasty. At least I think so – but others might not agree, so do tread carefully if you’re sensitive to this kind of subject matter!

**Sulga**

Furious, she sat watching the brothers for some time before deciding on her plan.

She watched the blonde shivering silently under the filthy, blood-stained rag in one corner, while the brunette scratched on the yellow parchment with the pen she’d given him, telling tales of their fiendish abuse at the hands of her wicked family.

She would make them both pay – of that there was no doubt. But she believed the punishment should always fit the crime, and it took her a while to decide how she should chastise her little brunette for his wanton brother-fucking.

It wasn’t the incestuous act in itself that bothered her. There was hardly an adult male in her own family that she hadn’t fucked in her time, and she’d tried many a female too for good measure.

Her people were loose and practical with their need for pleasure, and had no time for the pathetic moral qualms of the softer races about who or what was taboo.

But she had never cared about their _enjoyment._

She hadn’t taken the time to warm up her horny old uncles, like her beloved little Kili had done with his skanky brother!

She would have to teach him a lesson. One that he would never forget.

And though it might hurt her to do it, by Sauron – it would hurt him _a lot_ more.

She made for the door to their cell, not even bothering to apply her disguise this time. The brothers would see her for exactly what she was now – the high minded little fools!

And as she stalked into the gloomy room, the dwarves drew back at her shadow in the doorway.

“Sulga? Is that you?”

It was her little Kili that spoke, his voice full of innocence. As if he hadn’t just betrayed her every kind gesture by cock-sucking his big brother before her very eyes!

She nodded, hardly trusting her voice not to quaver with anger.

“Yes, it’s me.”

The two brothers stared at her in concern, sitting apart on both sides of the dirty cell. Neither of them seemed to know quite how to react to her still and silent presence in the doorway, but she could see the blonde was already casting her a dubious look.

He didn’t trust her. She doubted he ever had.

She cleared her throat, making an effort to sound relaxed.

“I have something to show you, Kili. I need you to come with me for a while.”

Her little brunette stared.

“Are you setting us free now, Sulga? Is it time? My brother will come too.”

She shook her head.

“He must stay here for now, Kili. I will explain on the way. But you must come with me.”

He rose to his feet, and glanced worriedly at the blonde.

“You know I won’t go without him. You promised me he would come too.”

She nodded.

“Yes, I remember. It will only take a little while, Kili.”

The blonde was staring at her with wide eyes.

“Where are you taking him? Why are you dressed like that?”

She glared at him from the shadows with her full malevolence, and the blonde gasped.

“Don’t go with her, Kili! She’s one of them – don’t listen to her!”

But the brunette shook his head.

“Sulga hasn’t hurt anyone. It wasn’t her fault – what they did, Fili. We need her help.”

But the blonde turned to his brother and muttered something quickly in Khuzdul as he passed – so quickly her ears could not make it out.

Whatever he said, Kili just nodded without a glance and walked straight past.

“Let’s go, Sulga. What do you need me to do?”

She swung the door closed and sealed the blonde alone in the cell, marvelling again at how trusting the younger brother could be. It was almost as if he’d never known dishonesty or cruelty before, and had no idea of how to defend himself against those less pure and virtuous than himself.

Against people like her.

Because in truth, he had no defence against her, and soon he would be fully at her mercy.

“Follow me.”

She led him down the corridor, away from the wise and futile warning of his brother and into her favoured playroom.

And before he could even blink at what was waiting for him, two wiry orc guards grabbed him from the sides and cuffed his hands above his head.

“What the – ? What’s happening? Sulga?”

She said nothing, and watched impassively as her little brunette was hauled off his feet and hoisted to a triangular frame in the centre of the room.

The guards strapped his hands to the apex, and tied each foot to the legs of the frame.

She stared at his body for a moment, fascinated by the rise and fall of his darkly-haired pale chest under the strain of his breathing. She felt an urge to touch him, to kiss him – to run her blade over that firm muscle right now and feel it bleed.

“What’s going on, Sulga? What are they going to do?”

She heard the fear in his voice now, and smiled seductively into his big brown eyes, wide with fright like a wounded baby deer.

She took a step towards him.

“Tell me, Kili. What did your brother say to you as you left. You know I cannot understand your dwarf language.”

The brunette’s eyes were darting around the room, as if he expected her uncle to appear from any dark corner.

“He said... he said that he loved me, Sulga. He’s worried about things – he’s worried about me. What’s going to happen now?”

She followed his gaze around the room, noting the way his eyes widened at every passing sound.

Even now, he still didn’t understand.

“Oh Kili, you really are so sweet. But didn’t your mother ever tell you to listen to your big brother? Or to be wary of the promises of strangers?”

She raised her eyebrows suggestively, and saw only confusion on the young dwarf’s face.

She giggled.

“My name is Sulga, Kili. And if your people had a bit more _respect_ for female warriors, then perhaps you would have heard mention of the full version of my name.”

She saw his body suddenly stiffen, and she took a step towards him.

“So let me tell you now.”

To her surprise, he shook his head.

“I don’t need to hear your titles to respect you, Sulga. I know you don’t care for mine.”

His brown eyes blinked at her in sincerity, with no trace of fear on his pretty face.

Perhaps he hadn’t understood her properly.

“That’s nice of you to say, Kili, but I think you need to hear them anyway.”

She flashed him a crooked smile.

“My name is Sulga. I am the daughter of Bollog the Burner, and commander of the armies of the Mordor swamp – the heir to the Scourge of the Red Lodge... and niece of the greatest and most feared of the orc-lords of Middle Earth.”

She could see the realisation dawning on his face now, but he still shook his head dumbly, as if his denial could somehow change her very identity.

“That’s right, Kili. I’m _his niece_. My uncle is Azog the Defiler.”

She smiled wickedly.

“And it is thanks to me that you and your brother are here in the first place. It was I who gifted the filthy elf manuscript to my uncle. The one that gave him his ideas for you and your brother. The one that recounts the _ritual.”_

She watched the blood draining from the dwarf’s pale face, making his big brown eyes seem wider and darker.

She giggled.

“You have me to thank for everything you and your brother have suffered, Kili. But what happens from now on is up to you.”

He stared at her, his eyes full of hurt.

“Everything you said to me... it was all lies? You planned all this for us? For me?”

She nodded, meeting his sickened stare with a satisfied smile.

“That’s right, Kili. I gave my uncle the idea of your capture. I helped him plan everything. And I allowed him to use your brother as he did.”

She saw the confusion reappear on his face.

“Why did you do that, Sulga? Why?”

She grinned.

“Why do you think, Kili? You’ve met my uncle. He’s only interested in two things – fucking and torture.”

She shrugged.

“Once upon a time he had other interests. He used to be a great leader, making the plans himself. Winning battles. Earning respect. Everyone feared him. Everyone feared us. But now he’s just a sad old fool, holding us all back with his indecisions. More concerned with his dungeons and his playthings than raiding our enemies and restoring our power.”

It was her turn to shake her head.

“He had his eye on your uncle’s gold, you know. He wanted you dwarves to slay the dragon for him, and then he was going to strike at you and take it.”

Her little brunette blinked.

“Is he going to _ransom_ us? If he wants our gold, and he’s got us, then surely that’s the easier way to take it than waging war on Erebor!”

She sighed. Even now, he was still hopeful of escape.

He was going to be so disappointed.

“You misunderstand me, Kili. I do not wish for him to take your gold.”

He stared at her, shaking his head.

“Then why are we here, Sulga? Why did you bring us here to suffer all this?”

She stared around the room, meeting her guards’ grim faces with a wry smile.

“You’re here for me, Kili. You’re here to save my people.”

He frowned at her.

“I don’t understand. How can I help your people as a prisoner?”

She smiled at the thought.

“Think about it, Kili. If my uncle seized your gold, my people would never accept my succession! There would be a war among us – amongst my people. They would all be fighting for position, trying to get their hands on the poison Erebor gold. Trying to take command. All the backstabbers, and cowards, and cocksuckers – all vying for _my_ position and bringing their weakness with them! And even if none of them succeeded in toppling me, all your filthy races would seize that moment to crush us completely.”

She glared, feeling her anger flare once more at his people’s loathsome ways.

“Without the Erebor gold, you dwarves would make peace with your enemies. And where would that leave _us?”_

She shook her head.

“I had to find a way to distract him. I had to find a way to make him forget all about his little mission to Erebor. And when I found that stupid elf manuscript in Mirkwood, I knew how I could do it.”

She could see his doubt now. His mistrust of her setting in. His fear, beginning to bloom – she’d seen that look on a thousand faces, and now she was seeing it on his just the same.

“So me and my brother are the distraction, is that it? We’re here for your uncle to torment, so he doesn’t fight my uncle and steal _my_ family’s gold?”

She nodded, hearing the bitterness in his voice.

“My uncle is predictable. You’ve seen that. He loves his cruelty and sport. He loves his pretty boys, and he most of all loves the idea of revenging himself on _your_ family.”

She shrugged.

“You and your brother are the perfect victims, Kili. He will never stop tormenting your older brother – you’ve seen how much he enjoys it. And without me to protect you, that would be your fate too.”

He glared at her, shaking his head.

“So I’m supposed to be grateful to you now? For protecting me – is that it? After everything you’ve done to us? After everything your uncle’s done to my brother?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“After everything you made _me_ do to him.”

She grinned, seeing his discomfort at the memory.

“Oh, Kili, I’m sorry. My uncle thought it would be fun to test how far your brotherly love went.”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly and shook her head.

“But don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it. Your brother loves you. And you love your brother. You’ve always idolised him, haven’t you? Always been a little bit jealous of how much more respected he is than you? And now you just got to fuck him over in a way he’ll never be able to forget.”

She saw his face turn crimson and his eyes close in shame.

“I don’t want him to die, Sulga. You told me it would save him.”

He stared at her plaintively.

“You told me _you’d_ save him. You told me we’d all escape from here together!”

She shook her head.

“There will be no escape for either of you, Kili. You must understand that now. All I can offer you is myself. If you promise to respect me, and honour me, then I will protect you. If you give me your loyalty, then I will make sure my uncle does not hurt you.”

He considered her words, staring miserably at the floor.

“What’s going to happen to him, Sulga?”

He stared at her, and she saw the tears in his eyes.

“Is he going to die?”

She shrugged, wondering what to say.

“We’re _all_ going to die, Kili. Some a lot sooner than others. But believe me when I say, death is not the _worst_ thing that can happen to someone you love.”

He shivered.

“I will do whatever you want, Sulga. I will pledge myself as yours, swear to obey you – whatever you want. But please – please help my brother. Don’t let him suffer.”

She stepped up to him, and took his face in her hand.

He flinched at her touch.

“I will keep your brother alive, Kili. You can count on it. If he dies, then my uncle will turn his attentions on you – which neither of us want.”

He nodded, watching her carefully.

“I trust you. I believe you. I know you’re not the monster that your uncle is, Sulga. And you have a choice too. You don’t have to take orders from him. If he’s as foolish as you say – why not disobey him? Why not overthrow him? If you could do better than him, then surely your people deserve that now?”

She smiled, and stroked his cheek.

“I’m not a traitor whore, Kili. Not for you. And we both know that right now you think I’m every bit the monster my uncle is. You can’t trick me into trading my uncle in for your brother, it isn’t going to happen.”

She brushed her finger down his cheek and across his lips.

“I know how you feel about him, Kili. I know you don’t want to admit it to yourself, but I know. And it’s okay, I’ll keep him alive. I’ll even try and protect him – for you. But I expect your loyalty in return.”

She brushed her lips against his ear, feeling the silky strands of his hair on her face.

“And I expect your faithfulness to me. And your _affection.”_

She felt him stiffen against her, and she sighed. He wasn’t playing along as he should.

She would have to use harder means to convince him.

And for once, the thought almost made her sad.

“But first, Kili, you need a lesson. A demonstration. Something to make you understand that I am to be respected as well. Because if you’re going to be mine, you have to be faithful, and love me only. I don’t like seeing you touch other people. Especially not your brother. It makes me feel that you care nothing for my kindness and generosity.”

She shook her head, trying to keep her head clear of all his foul deeds.

“So if I see you touch him one more time, I’m going to have to remove the outer layer of his skin and wear it as a costume next time we fuck. Do you understand me? Not one more time!”

Her little brunette had gone white as snow, and his dark brown eyes stared dolefully out at her.

“Sulga, what are you talking about? Don’t hurt him, please! I won’t do anything to him. You told me I should do that. You told me it would save him. I was only doing what you told me to!”

She saw his face suddenly redden again, and understood he felt shame for what he’d put her through. Good. Maybe she was getting though to him at last!

Signalling to her guards, she was handed a small wooden box tied with a silk ribbon.

“I’m going to give you a taste of what my uncle did to your brother. Just so you understand that it’s better that you belong to _me.”_

She smiled, seeing him begin to shake his head in protest.

“Sulga, you don’t have to do that. I promise – I will do whatever you say. I will never touch him again. I will respect you and be affectionate!”

She understood he was nervous. He’d seen how his brother had suffered. But there was no need for him to fear her now.

She raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh, it’s alright, Kili. I won’t run you through with a huge orc cock!”

She smiled sweetly.

“I have something that is far more fitting for you. It should be exactly your kind of size.”

She giggled, and opened the box.

The dwarf stared at the brown leathery object in her hand, frowning.

“You might not recognise it, Kili. But it’s not so different from yours, is it? Can you guess what it is?”

She saw the dwarf’s eyes stare at the object in disbelief.

“That’s right, Kili. It’s your grandfather’s penis! My uncle had it tanned after he removed it, all those years ago.”

Every wrinkle of skin was exquisitely preserved on the pickled old dwarf dick, yet the hide had also been sewn up with sand to retain the original shape and length. To retain some semblance of hardness in the old leather penis.

Before her, her pretty little Kili seemed to choke.

“That’s not... oh Mahal! You _can’t_ be serious!”

She nodded happily.

“Oh no, it’s definitely _his._ We do obviously have quite a few of these kinds of _antiques_ lying around in my uncle’s art collections, but this one definitely used to belong to your grandfather.”

She studied the curious leather cock, squinting between it and the shrivelled member hanging from Kili’s crotch before her.

“Yes, you can really see the family resemblance, I think. As once my uncle’s added your brother’s to his collection then maybe we can compare them both side by side.”

She licked her lips.

“Or I could fuck you with them both and ask you which was which?”

The brunette’s face was turning pale.

“No, Sulga, please! Don’t touch me with that... _thing._ If you let me down, I’ll fuck you. I’ll make you happy, it’ll be however you want it – I’ll make it nice!”

She nodded.

“Your insolence is unworthy of you, Kili. It is unworthy of me, and it is certainly unworthy of the respect you should have for me.”

She stood forward, and took the brunette’s face in her free hand.

For a second she thought he would turn away, and try to resist her affections, but instead he met her eyes. She could see the depths of emotion in there – the fear and revulsion fighting with his anger and despair – and she knew it was all for her.

She’d wanted to make him feel happy, and loved. But all he gave her back was this. This emptiness and disdain.

It was disappointing.

There were tears in his eyes. But it wasn’t love she saw shining there.

Only the boring, crushing fear she’d seen in a million faces before his.

But then he blinked, and shook his head. And when he reopened those deep brown eyes, she saw only acquiescence.

“If I do what you want, Sulga, will you still run away with me? Will you run away with me and my brother like you said?”

She shook her head, and caressed his cheek.

“It’s too late for your brother, Kili, I told you. And why would I set you free when I have you where I want you like this?”

He stared at her, and she felt his dark shining eyes melt her heart with their blackness.

“Because you’re better than your uncle, Sulga. You’re free to do whatever you choose – whatever you want. You don’t have to be his servant. You can choose to stop your uncle’s madness! You can walk away with Fili and me, whenever you want, and make that choice for yourself.”

She shook her head.

“No. It’s too late to change what I am, Kili. But it’s not too late for you. You can choose me, and my way. Or you will get my uncle’s way.”

She kissed him, feeling the warm softness of his lips – enjoying the taste of him even if he didn’t kiss her back.

He would in time.

He just needed his lesson first.

She broke away.

“You will learn to be more appreciative of what you have here with me, Kili. Especially after you see what my uncle has done to your brother. You will learn that it pays to keep me happy, even if right now you don’t understand that I’m here to help you.”

And with a smile, she nodded to her attendants and handed them the leather cock to grease up.

The dwarf shuddered on the frame, shaking his head desperately.

“Sulga, I understand. I’ll do what you want – whatever you want. But if you care for me at all, then listen to me. Don’t do this to me, please!”

But it was only the fear speaking in him, she knew this.

She had to show him the truth, to make him conquer his fears, so he would be a worthy enough lover for one such as herself.

“Oh Kili,” she stroked her hand sensually down his torso, and gave his cock a playful tug, “are you scared you might enjoy it, is that it? Scared you might enjoy the feeling of your grandfather’s cock up your ass, just like your brother enjoyed getting pumped with yours?”

She rolled her eyes, feeling the anger bubbling away again at the memory of her betrayal, and nodded to her attendant.

Taking the greasy dick dildo, she slid her hand round dwarf’s firm ass and had a good grope of the warm flesh.

He tried to catch her eye again, frantically shaking his head.

“Sulga please, no!”

But she ignored his protests.

Instead, she gripped his cock with one hand, and with the other one skimmed the leather dildo down the crack between his soft butt cheeks. She brought it to a stop where she could feel his opening, and started to screw it in.

“Sulga, please!”

His cries became more urgent, and she tugged on his cock once again, trying to shake some life into the saggy member.

He may not want to enjoy himself here, but she had determined that he must.

“Easy now, Kili. Open up to this, for me.”

He was panting, trying desperately to free his legs – to move his ass out of the way of what she was going to put in him – but it was as foolhardy as it was futile. All that tension in his muscles would only make it worse for him, but then, that was just another lesson he would have to learn the hard way.

She pushed again with the leather dildo, and watched his whole face tremble as the old dwarf cock started to slide in.

“No, please,” he groaned, opening his eyes and staring at her in desperation. “Not like this, Sulga!”

She ignored him and pushed harder. She could feel the resistance in his body giving way now, as his hips thrust uselessly in the air - sending his own cock sliding roughly against her fingers as if he was trying to fuck her hand.

But it was she who was fucking him.

“Oh, Sulga, no, stop it, stop it!”

She heard the tremor in his voice, and drove the dildo into his asshole as far as it would go.

Kili’s hips thrust forward into her hand once more, and his voice broke off into a heavy grunt.

She wrenched the dildo around inside of him with a grin, watching his features twist in pain as she made him feel all sorts of new and unbidden sensations.

“How does your grandfather’s dick feel inside you, Kili? Do you wish it was your brother’s?”

She crooned at him sweetly, twisting the cock harder until his body shook and his face turned scarlet.

Above his head, his fingers were stretched rigid, clawing at the air as if he could escape his violations that way.

She giggled at the sight.

“Don’t you like it, Kili? It’s only a small dwarf cock. Nothing like what my uncle and his friends did to your precious brother.”

She stroked his shaft, determined to have her way with him.

“That’s because I’m your friend, Kili. I’m looking after you.”

She saw his brown eyes open, and stare blankly into space.

“I know you are, Sulga. I know!”

She nodded, pleased, and tugged at his shaft some more, feeling the blood start to animate him even as she pumped his asshole with the dildo.

And inside of herself, she felt a buzz starting – one that she would satisfy with his cries, one way or another.

“And how do you feel about me, Kili? Hmm?”

She drove the dildo into him teasingly, and felt the frame vibrate along with her lover’s little body.

He moaned.

“I’ll do what you want, Sulga. I’m yours!”

She smiled, and felt her buzz grow warmer as his cock curled upwards in her hands.

“That’s right, Kili. And do you like what I’m doing to you?”

She watched his face, with the eyelids shut and the cheeks all flushed, and heard him pant in desperation.

“It doesn’t matter – as long as you like it!”

She nodded, happy with his response, and eased up on the dildo. She pumped it inside him more gently now, letting his body mould itself around the old leather dick, playing with him rather than punishing him.

His cock twitched in her hand.

“And are you going to obey me now, Kili? Are you truly mine?”

She tickled his cock, hearing his breath come in short bursts as he fought against the pleasures he didn’t want to feel.

“Yes. Yes! I’m yours.”

She smiled. He was not lying to her. He was in no position to lie to her right now.

She could hear the sincerity in his husky voice.

“Good, that’s good. It makes me happy when you’re good.”

She motioned to one of the guards to take charge of the dildo, and stuck her fingers onto the hot and warm spot on her body, working herself at the same pace as him.

“Sulga, I’m going to – ”

Her little dwarf gasped, and tensed in her hand.

“Sulga, please – I don’t want to – not like this – !”

She let her fingernails trail over the tip of his cock, raking the skin and making him wince and groan.

“Let go, Kili. Let it out. It’s what I want that matters.”

“No, please – ”

But despite his protests, her little brunette could no longer control himself.

He moaned and shook, and she felt her hand suddenly wet as his hot creamy spunk dribbled over her wrist.

“Oh Mahal,” his eyes were rolling back, and she wondered if he was going to faint.

Before he could escape her clutches, she rubbed her creamy hand into his face, and coated him with his own seed. She would keep his face like this now, as a reminder to him of who he was. What he’d done.

Who he _belonged_ to.

She felt her cunt ripple in excitement as the thrill of his undoing took hold of her, and closed her eyes while her back arched and her heart raced.

And by the time she’d opened her eyes, the little dwarf was breathing shallowly with his eyes closed, his head tilted forward at an angle, unconscious and spent.

She regarded the last of his spunk on her hand and smiled in satisfaction.

“Bring me the cup.”

At her bidding, the other guard handed her a small silver goblet.

And with some care, she scraped the remaining dwarf seed from her hand and let it collect in the base of the vessel.

She stared at it thoughtfully, and handed it back to her orc retainer.

“Clean his body up, and take him back to the cell.”

She ran her fingers through the dark, glossy hair, thinking.

“Leave his face as it is. And see to it his hands are cuffed this time.”

Her first lesson was done. For now.

And the next part of her uncle’s plan would soon be ready.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Fili**

  
The cell seemed colder without Kili in it. Darker. Lonelier.

Full of despair and pain.

He was scared to think what they were doing to his little brother... What _she_ was doing to him. He hadn’t trusted her from the start – not really. Not fully.

But Kili had.

He’d always been too trusting.

This evil place was full of tricks, and the joke was always going to be on them.

But _he_ should have known better. He should have warned his brother.

He should have told him to stop.

He shouldn’t have let Kili do it, he knew it was wrong. But how could it matter now, now their lives were almost at an end, and the only thing left for them both was hurt and humiliation?

What could it matter that he’d _liked_ it?

Could it hurt him more to crave his brother’s touch, when that touch was the only thing left that didn’t try to wound him?

When his brother was the only thing he had left to live for, the one thought he’d turned over again and again in his mind when they’d broken him again and again and again.

He _loved_ his brother.

He would die for him.

Feel pain and abuse for him.

He needed him.

He’d _always_ needed him.

And maybe his brother needed him as well. Maybe Kili needed something more from him now, something to live for too.

Mahal knew, there was nothing else left for either of them.

Just more of the same hurting, and humiliation, and –

He tried not to think on it.

He couldn’t admit to the sickening feeling in his guts, or the swollen, bloating way his stomach was already feeling.

I couldn’t be true. It _couldn’t_ be.

And even if it _was_ – Kili had taken it away.

It wasn’t going to happen to him, it was just another vile trick these monsters had conjured for their own amusement.

It wasn’t going to happen.

The nausea was from lack of food, nothing more. And the clutching, rending, tearing terror he felt in the pit of his swelling belly was from the stress of his captivity – the pains of his tortures.

There was nothing wrong with him.

It was all in his mind.

He must be half way to losing it by now.

He heard a sound, and sat up straighter.

Footsteps –

Someone coming.

Keys were jingled outside and the door opened.

“You’re awake after all, _blondie_. Got a kiss for me this time?”

He felt his face flinch as the orc leered at him.

He recognised this one. He remembered.

This one had been cruel. Crueller than the other guards. More wickedly _thorough_ in his cruelty.

In memory, he felt his testicles shrink as the fiend stepped closer to him.

“No, please. Get away from me – ”

And then he saw the second guard, dragging his brother in.

Kili’s hands were chained in front of his naked body, and his face was pale.

He was wide-eyed and tight-lipped, and Fili knew that look.

His brother couldn’t hide anything from him.

He was angry, and hurting, and he would say nothing of it to anyone – not even to his older brother. Not until he felt safe, and comforted. And then he would tell everything, and trust in his older brother to make it better.

The orcs dropped Kili in the corner far away from him, and laughed.

“Got some company for you. Someone to keep you warm til we’re _reunited.”_

The orc pulled suggestively at his crotch through the loincloth, and the pair laughed at whatever face he must have made in response.

He didn’t care.

He only had eyes for his brother.

“Kili, what’s _wrong?_ What did they do?”

But his brother just shook his head and closed his eyes.

And Fili felt desperation rising in his chest again.

“Won’t you come and sit with me, Kili? And tell me what’s wrong?”

But his brother shook his head, and wouldn’t look at him.

"Kili, please. I'm cold. Talk to me!"

But his brother lay down on the floor, his face to the wall.

Ignoring him.

And in the end, as the silence slunk back into the cell and the jagged minutes turned to hours, he felt his own exhaustion overtaking him.

And as the world grew darker behind his eyes he knew his heart was finally breaking.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin receives Kili’s desperate message, while Azog inspects and interrogates Fili – and presents his prisoner with some difficult choices to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part of this chapter is a bit gruesome (poor Fili), so don’t eat anything while reading this unless you have a particularly strong stomach!

**Bilbo**

  
Dark clouds hung in the air, guarding the pass above the little mountain village with a cold and muffling wall of silence. The hobbit stared up at the ominous sky gathering ahead, trying to fathom the odds of the winter snowfalls coming early.

He turned back to the village, watching the procession of men, elves and dwarves winding slowly up the mountain side. Despite his earlier pessimism, Thorin had in fact managed to gather a fine assemblage of military skill.

In addition to the hundred best fighters from Laketown, King Thranduil had sent his son Legolas along with fifty elvish archers. And to his obvious relief, all the members of Thorin’s company had resumed their roles around their desperate king without hesitation, alongside a number of friends from Dain’s own entourage.

They had a good number, and they were making good time.

But still the dwarf king was anxious. He’d wanted to reach his nephews in the pale orc’s keep as quickly as possible, and to do so he’d gambled on the mountain pass staying clear.

If the snows held off then they might reach their destination in another two nights’ travels.

But the alternative was terrible to contemplate.

Nobody wanted to voice aloud their own private fears of what might befall their absent friends should their party be delayed by the two weeks’ journey it would take to go the long way round the hateful hills. But everyone knew it, all the same.

And the mood was turning heavier the further into the sullen skies they climbed.

Bilbo wondered if now might be a good time to start praying.

But would the icy-veined storm gods even listen to a tiny, warm-blooded mortal such as himself if he tried to beseech their aid for his suffering comrades? How could such beings of elemental timelessness and awful beauty ever care for the woes and pains of transient souls such as themselves?

But maybe it was worth a bash, all the same. It’s not like there was anything else he could do for Fili and Kili right now, and the futility he felt was driving him crazy.

A freezing downdraft from the mountain played with his hair, and he looked up in time to see a large raven land on Thorin’s standard. There was a message scroll attached to its leg, and Bilbo felt a flutter of dark foreboding as the dwarf king reached his arm out to the huge black bird, allowing it to perch long enough to retrieve the message.

The hobbit dashed over to his friends, sharing their look of concern as the thin scroll was unrolled.

If no news was good news, then what was this?

Thorin met his eye with a frown, and began to read aloud the contents of the thin yellow paper.

“Dearest uncle,” he began, and the words seemed to catch him by surprise, and stick in his throat.

He took a deep breath, and tried again.

“Our captor wishes that I write to you with a proposal. He says he is willing to free us both should you choose to take our place as his prisoner.”

Thorin raised his brows and looked around his friends, a note of hope in his voice.

“He says that it’s you that he wants, not us, and that he will set us free if you come. He wishes you to understand that I remain safe and unharmed, and am still able to function as your heir if you choose to give yourself up to him.”

The dwarf king blinked several times, as if rereading the last sentence in his head.

“I beg you to please consider his terms, if you have ever cared for us and would see us free. My brother is counting on your mercy, uncle. Your wisdom is our only hope. Please help us. Your ever-loving nephew, Kili.”

He stared at the little hobbit, and Bilbo felt the blankness of the gaze – Thorin’s mind was already far away from him.

“It’s _his_ handwriting. It’s Kili’s words.”

The dwarf lord’s voice was breathless.

“And it’s Azog’s trap, Thorin. You can’t be seriously considering this?”

The gruff voice of Balin seemed to awaken something in the king, and the flinty grey eyes snapped back to reality.

“Of course I’m considering it! If it’s an honest proposal, then maybe we can get them back alive, maybe –”

“Aye, _if_ it’s an honest proposal. That’s a pretty big if, Thorin. Don’t be such a fool.”

But the dwarf lord was tossing his head, throwing his dark hair to the wind.

“But they’re _unharmed_ , Balin! If I do what he wants, he won’t hurt them – I would gladly surrender myself a thousand times if it would keep them safe from harm.”

Alarm fluttered in the hobbit’s heart, to hear his lover voicing such delusions.

“Thorin,” he shook his head sadly. “That letter – it doesn’t say much about Fili, does it? It’s him that’s your heir, not Kili. What do you think that means?”

The dwarf lord’s lip trembled, and his steely gaze fell back to the black words on the parchment.

“No, but... he must be alive, Bilbo. It says that they’re both alive, and I can get them back.”

The hobbit came forward, and took his friend’s hand.

“Then the best way to get them back is with this army, Thorin. Don’t give yourself up for nothing. If you go marching into Azog’s clutches he’ll never let you go – and he’ll never let them go either.”

The dwarf lord stared at him for a moment, his eyes ablaze, then nodded silently.

He stuffed the letter inside his furred cloak, and shook his head.

“But what if – ”

“Thorin, listen to us!”

Dwalin clapped a heavy hand on his friend’s shoulder, as if trying to knock some sense into his stubborn king.

“We have arms enough to encircle that keep. We will raze it to the ground should the pale orc refuse to release the lads. We will give him no choice. But you cannot go in there! You may be our king, but it would be _treason_ for us to allow you to entertain such folly.”

Thorin stared around at his friends’ disapproving faces, thin lipped and wild eyed.

“I see. Thank you for your wise _and loyal_ council as always, Dwalin.”

Bilbo sighed, and squeezed his lover’s hand.

“Dwalin’s right, and you know it, Thorin. I know how much you love them. I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. But we cannot lose you to that fiend – not on top of losing them as well. You know he cannot be trusted. You know we’ll have to fight him! And that’s what we’ll do.”

He saw Thorin nod his head sadly, and felt a flicker of reassurance in the gesture. Hopefully there would be no more of this dangerous talk.

But he knew the mad idea wouldn’t leave Thorin’s mind – not now. He’d sit there, brooding on it silently, and not say a word until the time came when their backs were turned and he made straight for Azog’s keep.

The sooner they got there the better. The sooner they got their journey underway, and were in place to take action – proper military action – the happier they would all be.

“We should go, Thorin – we should press on.”

The little hobbit gestured to the mountain pass, and the dwarves followed his gaze to the angry skies.

“We need to be on the other side of that mountain before the snows fall, and we need to reach Fili and Kili as soon as we can.”

The dwarf king nodded, eyeing the skies with evident worry.

“Agreed. There’s snow coming, and must beat the storm. We’ve wasted enough time arguing about this, and we cannot lose any more.”

He stared at his friends.

_“They_ cannot afford it.”

The dwarves nodded, and began shuffling onward up the steepening slope.

Bilbo tugged at his lover’s arm, holding him back for a quiet word.

“Thorin, wait. Will you do something for me? Please? Will you look at me and promise me you won’t do anything rash?”

The dwarf lord smiled and shrugged.

“When have I ever done anything like that?”

But the hobbit was not for games.

“Just promise me.”

Thorin stared at the sky above the mountain, the smile dying on his lips.

“You know I’m no fool, Bilbo. And I promise you I won’t start acting like one any time soon.”

The hobbit took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. And I’ll be watching you when we get there, Thorin Oakenshield – just to make sure that you don’t! You won’t slip away from me that easily.”

The dwarf flashed him a smile again, and took the hobbit’s hand.

“I have no intention of slipping away from you, Bilbo. You can trust me on that.”

The hobbit watched those flinty blue eyes carefully and saw his lover’s sincerity.

“I hope so, Thorin.”

The dwarf tossed his head.

“Come on, let’s get going. The wind is getting colder, and bickering amongst ourselves won’t shorten this climb.”

The hobbit nodded, and turned back to the track.

But despite his lover’s earnest promises, he knew better than to trust a dwarf such as Thorin Oakenshield to hold to mere words once his passions were enflamed...

_____________________________________________________________________

  
**Kili**

  
He couldn’t tell anymore if it was night or day, but when he awoke this time he felt a strange calmness on himself. Like the storms in his mind from the night before had cleared while he slept, and now the moon was out on a glassy flat ocean.

Despite all the horrors he’d witnessed, all the pains and indignities he’d suffered, all the threats and betrayals he’d been party to.

Now he understood.

Now he knew what was _real._

And now he knew he had to beat them, whatever the cost. He had to think of a way to do it – it was down to him now.

He stared at his golden-haired brother, asleep in the opposite corner of the rank and filthy cell, and felt his strength returning to him.

He remembered all the times Fili had defended him – against their always-disapproving parents, against their disappointed uncle, against scolding tutors and the unkind words of judgemental lords who pointed their fingers at his errant ways and shook their heads at him.

Fili was the only person in the world who had ever accepted him for who he _was_ , without measuring him against what he was supposed to be.

The only person who understood him and loved him without question.

And these monsters were destroying him, piece by piece.

And with every cringe in his brother’s shoulders, with every quiver of his lips as footsteps passed their cell, Kili understood that he would die a hundred times if that’s what it took to restore the light to those blue eyes.

He wanted to reach out and hold Fili, to whisper to him that he would protect him and that everything would be alright – for his words to still the ceaseless horrors his brother suffered even in his sleep – but he was afraid of what _she_ would do if she found out. She must be spying on them, from somewhere. Watching, waiting, ready to seize any excuse to hurt Fili again.

He would kill her. He would kill them _both._

And then he would take his brother in his arms, and not let go of him until he’d filled every hole in his brother’s heart with his own soul’s pieces.

He saw a frown pass over Fili’s pallid face, as his brother moaned in another nightmare. Even in his sleep there was no escape from what they’d done to him.

But then Kili heard it too. It wasn’t a dream.

It was a sound, coming down the hallway.

Heading to their cell – footsteps again.

He stiffened, balling his hands into fists within the cuffs, hoping that this time he could take them by surprise, and reach the keys he’d seen hanging so close to the door on the other side...

And as he stared at it, the door swung open and he saw what was waiting in the doorway this time.

It was the guard.

The guard who’d abused him for that bitch.

Kili stood to run at him anyway, but the beast saw him coming even as he lurched out from the shadows.

He felt the punch land across his face and then the slap of the floor as it caught the back of his head, and he lay in a puddle of pain, powerless as the grey orc stalked in and made for his brother.

Fili was awake now, murmuring in protest as the scaly hands reached down for him, plucking at his pale, bruised flesh and dragging him across the floor to whatever madness awaited this time.

“Fili, _no._..”

He tried to call to him, but his voice was just a whisper.

“Fili, I _love_ you – ”

But the door was already closing, and his brother was gone.

_________________________________________________________________________

  
**Azog**

  
The pale orc strutted up and down the medicine room, waiting for his little patient to arrive. He’d instructed his guards to bring the blonde to him for assessment after his previous night’s travails.

He couldn’t have his favourite toy dying on him through some nasty infection, could he? – not now the little prince was impregnated with the orc seed. The dwarf’s body must be inspected for injury, and treated if necessary.

There would be no escape in death for him until Azog was satisfied he’d won.

Azog licked his lips with his big black tongue, anticipating today’s sport, and turned eagerly to the footsteps approaching the door.

The blonde was flanked by two leering guards, still naked and bruised, his hair dirty and braids loose. The little bronze clasps that fastened them in place must have been lost at some point during his exertions the night before, and were now lying lost in the dirt somewhere in the skin room gutters.

One of the creature’s eyes was bruised and swollen, but the other was fully open to regard the pale orc warily.

Azog smiled.

“Good morning, my _handsome_ young prince. I trust you slept well after we exhausted you so quickly last night?”

The guards sniggered in mockery, and pushed the dwarf to his knees on the ground.

The pale orc stepped closer to leer down at his prisoner, and reached out a hand to stroke the mottled skin on the dwarf’s once-pretty face.

“You look absolutely _ruined,_ Fili, son of Dis. Whatever would your mother say if she could see you now?”

The dwarf swallowed thickly, and stared down at the floor.

Azog crouched down to the dwarf’s level and gave him a sympathetic shrug.

“Especially since now you’re going to be a _mother_ yourself.”

The blonde stared at him in disgust, finally finding his voice.

“It’s not true, what you said to me. It can’t be true!”

Azog nodded sadly.

“If you truly believe that Fili, then why ever did you let your brother fuck you earlier today?”

The dwarf’s mouth opened in shock.

“Oh yes, Fili. I _know_ what you and your little brother did – I know everything that goes on in here. Your brother told you a nasty lie about his seed nullifying your pregnancy, just so he could blast you as hard as the rest of us.”

The dwarf shook his head desperately.

“No, he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t do that to me!”

Azog shrugged.

“I don’t know much about your sibling relationship, of course. Only you can know whether he enjoyed what he did. Whether he was taking advantage. I mean, it can’t have been easy for him, growing up next to you – such a _perfect_ dwarf specimen – a shining example to try and live upto. I’m sure he’s never once resented you for it, or wanted to get the better of you. Your family are all such noble leaders to us all, aren’t they Fili?”

The pale orc’s eyes narrowed nastily, seeing the doubt appear on the blonde’s face.

“And whatever he felt, it’s not like you enjoyed it, is it? Tell me Fili, did your brother get you hard? Harder than we could do? Did you prefer getting fucked by him to getting fucked by me and my lads?”

The dwarf closed his one good eye and shook his head, staring at the floor.

“No. I wanted none of it. You _know_ that.”

Azog grabbed at the blonde’s chin, and tilted the little face up to regard his twisted grin.

“That’s not what I heard, Fili. But no matter. We’ll _all_ be fucking you again soon enough, so we’ll get to practice at making you squeal like the bitch you are.”

The dwarf shuddered on the floor, wrapping his own arms around his bare shoulders and avoiding the pale orc’s eye.

Azog stood with a flourish, and ruffled the creature’s dirty hair.

“But that’s not why I’ve brought you here this morning, Fili. I need you for something else.”

The dwarf looked up cautiously, his blue eye flickering around the room, looking for warning of whatever fresh indignity awaited him.

But all there was to see was a high table and a cabinet.

“Strap him to the unit, lads. Get him into position.”

“No, not again, please!”

The dwarf cried out in protest as the guards lifted his small, frail body and laid him prone on the slab.

Cuffs were fastened around his ankles and wrists at the four corners of the table, and no matter how hard he struggled, the dwarf lacked enough strength to break free.

Azog studied his little prisoner thoughtfully.

He’d been a captive for less than a week, but already the prince was looking thinner. His movements were weak and sluggish, and the youthful glow he’d had only days ago was fast fading.

Azog ran his hand across the dwarf’s beating chest and felt the cold skin tremble under his touch. The dwarf’s breathing was rapid and shallow, and if he stilled his big grey hand, he could feel the jarring beats of the creature’s small heart, fluttering fearfully under his fingers.

Victory was on its way – he could see it in the dwarf’s nervous gaze.

Already he was breaking inside, torn up and degraded. His optimism and innocence were already being replaced with fear and pain, and all that remained was to convince the creature that there could be no escape from his current misery.

Not now, and not ever.

That the suffering and sorrow he had known so far was merely a foretaste of the endless agonies that awaited him, and that only in death would he be permitted some small measure of solace.

Maybe. Although Azog had a plan for that _eventuality_ too.

The pale orc licked his lips, revelling in the dwarf’s decaying beauty, and skimmed his hand over the little belly.

The creature cringed as the probing hand cupped at his flat stomach, caressing and fondling the flesh there with evident curiosity.

“I can feel it, you know. It’s growing inside of you now. Your belly has swollen already, Fili, son of Dis – and it’s only been one night!”

He saw the dwarf’s blue eye staring at him in fright, and smiled.

“Just think how fat you will be after four weeks, when your body is ready to burst.”

The dwarf shook his head helplessly.

“No – there’s nothing different. You’re lying. You’re just playing with me!”

The pale orc leaned in closer, so his face was only inches away from the dwarf’s.

“See for yourself, Fili. The skin on your belly has changed colour.”

Confusion spread over the blonde’s face.

“What? No, it hasn’t.”

Azog nodded, smiling.

“Oh yes it has. Look.”

The dwarf manoeuvred his head, frowning as he tried to take a look at his injured body.

“See how the skin on your belly is greyer now, Fili? That’s because your guts are full of my seed, because when I _defiled_ you last night I left it there, to grow inside of you and feed on your body until you’re fat and heavy with an orcling.”

The dwarf was staring at his stomach, a look of horror spreading across his face.

_“Oh sweet Mahal, no.”_

Azog heard his whispered prayer, and nodded.

“Your gods can’t help you now, Fili. No medicines, remedies or wishes exist that can stop your pregnancy. Only _I_ can help you now.”

Without warning, the dwarf closed his eyes tight shut and screamed.

All four of his limbs thrashed uselessly against the cuffs – his body arching and twisting – trying to escape from his fate like an animal might try to escape from a trap.

The pale orc watched, amused, until gradually the howl on the creature’s lips turned to a moan, and the raging spasm of his limbs became a steady shaking.

He was a believer now, for sure.

And the knowledge alone was having exactly the effect Azog had hoped for.

“Get it out of me, please! Just get it out!”

The dwarf’s voice was ragged, pleading.

Begging, at last.

Azog nodded.

“You’ll have to grovel better than that.”

The dwarf fought for breath.

“Please, I know you want to hurt me. I know you like hurting things. But please, take it out, or just kill me and be done with it!”

Azog snorted.

“You want to die so soon, Fili, son of Dis? You disappoint me. But I suppose without you, there’s always your brother. Maybe you would prefer to watch _him_ take your place as my favourite prince?”

The dwarf screwed his eyes shut, and shook his head.

“Well then, we agree on something.”

And lazily, the pale orc’s finger traced across the creature’s belly, skimming over the patch of curly blonde hair on his groin. Resting on the small, soft mass of his cock, lying furled on top of the testes, clinging on as if for protection.

His fingers tightened on the blonde’s penis, and the pale orc pulled on it slowly, checking its length and condition with a wistful gaze.

“Such a shame you never got to use this, Fili. And now you never will. I did tell you about the birthing process, didn’t I?”

He sneered down at the shaking blonde.

“The orcling’s head will be as thick as your thigh. What do you think will happen to your lovely little cock when it decides to come out?”

The dwarf was staring at him, his gaze a picture of dread. The creature’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

He was like a fish, caught in a net, gasping in vain for air.

Azog laughed merrily.

“I will let you decide, Fili, since in your royal wisdom you are best placed to choose what most befits the line of Durin?”

The pale orc squeezed the cock in his hand, tightening his grip until the dwarf cried out.

“You can either have an amputation, right here and now, and that way the damage will be contained. Or, you can let _nature_ take its course. But I warn you Fili – death in childbirth is a cruel one.”

He sniggered, seeing all colour drain away from the dwarf’s face at his words.

The blonde closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

He opened them again, and Azog saw the blue fiery hatred had rekindled there.

“Is it any _worse_ than the other deaths you have in mind for me?”

There was an angry tone in his voice – an unexpected insolence that made Azog narrow his eyes.

“Is there anything I should especially fear now, now that you’ve destroyed me completely?”

The pale orc’s face was grim.

“Not _completely,_ Fili, son of Dis. Might I remind you that your brother still lives. He still lives relatively unscathed. But that could change very quickly – it could change right now in fact, right before your very eyes.”

He smiled maliciously, seeing the dwarf glare in sullen surrender.

“It could change in any manner of nasty ways – and you would be there to hear your brother scream the whole time, until his death became a mercy.”

The dwarf smiled angrily.

“But what about our uncle, Azog? You’ll never lure him here with two dead nephews. He’ll never agree to be your hostage unless he sees we’re still worth rescuing.”

The blonde creature shook his head in rage.

“I don’t think a gelded heir is much to trade with, do you?”

The pale orc’s eyes narrowed.

And with his hand, he twisted the spiteful creature’s cock so hard he felt the skin tear in the process.

The blonde gasped and struggled against his cuffs, all the air and fight going out of him in an instant, and Azog bent over him, grabbing the dwarf’s jaw in his hand and turning it towards himself.

“You will learn not to speak to me like that.”

He motioned to the nearest guard.

“I didn’t want to have to _mutilate_ you this way, but you have left me no choice.”

The dwarf’s attention snapped back to him, and Azog saw a look of sudden fear in the wide blue eye.

Helplessly, the dwarf thrashed against his cuffs, grunting for breath as he tried with all his strength to gain purchase against them.

But it was all in vain.

The guard passed a metal implement to his master, and Azog held it up to the light, allowing the creature to see it.

The sight of it stopped the dwarf in his tracks, and he gave a little murmur of alarm as his eyes took in the angled, needle-like point of the implement. The long, rubber tube that fed into one end and disappeared under the table.

Seeing he had regained the dwarf’s respect, the pale orc nodded slowly.

“You have a smart mouth, and if you weren’t such a good cock-sucker then I would remove your tongue.”

He saw the dwarf was watching him intently, with his one wide eye following every move the silver tool made as it hovered in the air above his shaking body.

“But I do not wish you to die so soon, Fili. So I will help you. I will _prepare_ you for what is coming.”

The dwarf was still staring at the implement, shaking his head.

“I don’t want your help. Just let me die.”

The pale orc grinned and shook his head.

“I think not, little prince. As you so eloquently put it, I need you alive until your uncle arrives. And who knows when that will be? So that means your body needs a little... _alteration,_ if you are to survive what’s coming.”

Azog took the blonde’s penis in one hand, feeling the warm skin of the creature’s most precious organ cool in his clammy hand, and slowly lowered the silver blade towards it.

The little blonde struggled to free himself, panting in fear as Azog gripped his cock tighter, until the metal point found the dimpled eye of his penis.

And deftly, with well practised technique, the pale orc drove the needle straight into the eye.

The dwarf stiffened and arched his back, releasing a scream of raw pain that made Azog suddenly harden under his loincloth.

Such a beautiful sound, for such a beautiful face. Even now, as the dwarf’s features screwed up in hurt and the sweat pooled on his forehead, the little prince was trying to resist, trying to fight back. Trying to stop himself from giving in to the animal urge to thrash and wail and beg for it to stop.

The creature was worth a certain admiration, even if he was dwarf scum.

Azog removed the needle from the tender flesh, and waited some moments for the creature’s ragged breathing to slow and normalise.

“Now Fili, I am going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them truthfully. If you fail to tell me the whole truth, then your dishonesty will be punished most severely. Do you understand?”

Without opening his eyes to look at him, the little prince nodded his head on the table, and the pale orc smiled affably.

“Good. Then we shall begin. Tell me Fili, before I fucked you – when you were still a virgin and all, what did you think about when you touched yourself?”

The dwarf opened his eye in bewilderment, his mouth opening as he struggled for words.

“I mean, all those dark days inside your musty old mountains. All those cold nights on the road with your uncle’s handsome friends. What did you think about to pass the time? To ease yourself to sleep on the sore, barren ground? Did you fantasise about your uncle touching you, was that it?”

The dwarf shook his head violently.

“My uncle would never – ”

The pale orc grinned.

“Ah, he would never – even if _you_ _wanted_ him to! You’ve wanted all your life to impress him, haven’t you? To live up to everyone’s expectations of you, to make him proud of you. And what better way to do that, than to crawl under your uncle’s blanket, and show him what your smart little mouth can really do?”

The dwarf opened his eye and stared in abject loathing at the pale orc.

“You’re disgusting. I don’t think of my uncle like that. He’s kind and good, and he would never – ”

_“He_ would never?”

Azog guffawed.

“Tell me, Fili. Did you really ever love a woman, or was that just a lie to hide the way you’ve felt about your uncle all these years?”

The dwarf closed his eyes, weariness on his face.

“It was no lie, Azog. I loved her, and she loved me. For a time.”

The pale orc heard the note of bitterness in the dwarf’s voice, and smiled.

“Go on.”

“She loved me – until she found out who I was – who my family were. And then... she found someone else. Someone normal, someone who didn’t have a _lineage_ quite like mine.”

The pale orc said nothing, watching the dwarf draw a shaky breath.

“And for a long time after, I couldn’t understand why I’d displeased her. But one day, after another lecture on _kingliness,_ I realised. What hope was there for me – or for Kili – to ever be happy like everyone else? What normal person would ever want to be part of our lives?”

The creature opened his eyes and stared at the silver needle.

“You hate my family Azog, because they hurt yours. Well let me tell you this. You don’t hate them half as much as I do.”

The pale orc grinned nastily.

“How you feel about your over-privileged ancestry is of no concern to me, Fili, son of Dis. You profess to hate your family, but I _know_ you would give your life gladly to save every last one of them. You cannot fool me.”

The pale orc took the dwarf’s penis in his clutches once more, and gave the creature a wink.

“And now, since you have lied to me.”

_“No,_ I’m not lying to you!”

But the pale orc ignored the complaints. His blood was warming, and right now he wanted nothing more than to hear the cries of pain from this little slut as he tore up his youthful body and destroyed whatever hopes this creature had ever had for a future.

He took the dwarf’s penis in one hand, and drew his fingers sensually over the rounded tip, seeing the small droplets of blood forming in the eye from his last insertion.

He drove the needle inside, deeper than before.

The dwarf cried out at the top of his lungs, screaming madly as the needle was pushed deeper inside the length of his shaft.

Azog closed his eyes, and pushed the needle in more forcefully, inch by inch – the implement was hollow inside, and once pushed home, could be inflated to whatever size was desired. For whatever amount of _stretching_ this dwarf could endure at a single time.

And although the creature thrashed against his bonds, and threw his head from side to side, and wailed as wildly as he could, the pale orc had him – had him by the cock – and was never going to let him go.

He watched as the blonde’s lips trembled as the tremor of pain ebbed at last, and looked down at the dwarf’s skewered penis – the needle rammed all the way to the base, ready to be expanded.

“Now Fili, I trust you won’t be lying to me again?”

He rattled the tortured cock around in his palm, letting the creature know he was serious.

“No! No lies!”

“I am glad to hear that, Fili. So tell me, now that we’ve established you hate your own family and are embittered from your cruel treatment at the hands of your faithless female lovers – what do you want? What got your blood going, on all those lonely nights on the road?”

He shook his hand again, and the dwarf sobbed in pain.

“It’s not just women... You were right. I like men, I like dwarves. Even... _elves.”_

The blonde creased his forehead in the pain of defeat, as if he’d given away some shameful secret. And maybe he had. Maybe the creature had never even been honest with himself for all those lonely, wasted years.

The pale orc guffawed.

“I could tell that about you within _minutes,_ Fili, son of Dis. You’re not as straight-laced as you pretend to be – it’s all just an act. It’s how you’ve taught yourself to be, because your horrible family made it clear that’s how they expect you to be. Only you don’t have the courage that your younger brother had to stand up to them. You’ve let them mould you, let them tell you what to do, who to be – for your entire life. And you’ve forgotten who you really are – and what you really want.”

The dwarf’s breathing was laboured, heavy – but the creature still groaned in protest.

“No, it’s not true.”

The pale orc studied the blonde, nodding to himself.

“Ah, but we both know it is true, Fili. It’s always been true – and you know it. It’s always been your brother who’s been the stronger one, the one who’s had the spirit to resist – and you’ve always known that too. You’ve always admired him for that. Always _envied_ him for that.”

He saw the blonde shake his head, in misery.

_“No.”_

“And maybe that’s why you have these strange and _frightening_ feelings for him.”

The dwarf’s breathing stopped, and his eye opened in panic to stare at the pale orc.

“What? What did you say?”

The fear in the creature’s voice was palpable.

And Azog smiled cruelly.

“You love your brother, Fili. You’re _in love_ with your brother. You always have been, haven’t you? And it’s taken words from a _special friend_ like me to make you realise it all.”

The dwarf just stared back, the one blue eye wide and broken, and Azog suddenly knew he’d won, right here and now.

The secret to this creature’s undoing had been here all along, and he’d been going about it the wrong way entirely!

He laughed, all of a sudden, surprising even himself.

“Oh, Fili, you _perfect_ little fool.”

He opened his eyes to see even the guards were looking at him strangely, while the dwarf on the table shuddered, waiting to see what was meant by this latest outburst.

The pale orc nodded, feeling giddy with the way his plan was taking shape.

“Listen to me Fili, and listen carefully – if you value your brother’s life. He still remains unhurt, you know – despite my niece _doing things_ to him.”

He saw the dwarf staring back – it was easy to arouse this fool creature’s protective instincts when it came to his beloved brother.

His beloved _lover,_ now his niece’s reports were confirmed.

“Your brother has written to your uncle, summoning him here. The deal is – if Oakenshield swaps places with you both, then I shall release you both and keep him here. To be my new... toy.”

He watched the dwarf’s face carefully.

“So Fili, the question is – if your uncle should choose to come in here freely – what will you do? You must know that I will never, ever be parted with you – not now you are pregnant with my seed. So it’s your choice. Will you warn your uncle off, or will you work with me, to undermine him – to save the life of your brother?”

The dwarf closed his eyes, pain coursing across his face.

“You’re asking me which of the two people I love most in the world to betray?”

The pale orc nodded.

“In a way, I suppose – except we both know which one you love _better,_ Fili.”

The blonde shook his head.

“You’re right. Gods all damn you – you’re right. I love Kili. More than anyone else alive. If you want me to do something for him, that hurts our uncle? You know I will. I have no choice. You’re giving me no choice!”

The blonde closed his eyes and let out a sob, and Azog watched the tears fall from the once-pretty face.

“You know Fili, it’s good that we had this conversation. It’s good that you have finally admitted to yourself what your brother means to you.”

Azog nodded to one of the guards in the shadows, and suddenly the rubber tube attached to the needle began throbbing. The liquid slowly made its way up the machinery by the side of the table, although for now the little dwarf could see nothing.

“But you must understand this, Fili. You will never speak to your brother again. You will never speak to your uncle again. Because the _sight_ of you alone will say everything they need to hear.”

The liquid was ready to be sent down the base of the needle, and Azog nodded at his guard to start the flow.

“You belong to me now, and no one – not even your little brother – will want you after I have made my alterations to you!”

Azog saw the first drops of liquid start to flow into the silver needle, and smiled as the dwarf’s face creased in discomfort.

“What are you doing?”

The blonde’s voice was suddenly panicked, and Azog leaned over him in delight.

“I’m preparing you for the birth, Fili. Because you’re my property. And because I like hearing you scream.”

Azog watched the waters start to flow inside the needle, ready to stretch the dwarf’s penis from the inside as the pressure slowly built.

_“No,_ please, stop it! It hurts – ”

The little dwarf panted in pain, his voice trailing off into a groan as he thrashed his head from side to side.

But already, the pale orc was beating his meat with his one good hand, wondering what Thorin Oakenshield’s face would look like when he had the dwarf king here, under the needle, ready to torture for all the hours the gods sent his way.

_“Please!_ Stop it!”

Azog smiled, and nodded to the guards, ignoring the pleas from his hapless prisoner.

“Keep it on until he’s loose, like we discussed. And clean him up afterwards, I don’t want him dirtied with disease.”

He strolled out, his mind buzzing with cruel ideas. The stretching procedure would take hours – and he had some plans to share with Sulga before she went hunting.

The rest of the blonde’s treatment could be handled by the guards. He could return later, and inspect their work. And put the finishing touches on the whole procedure.

_“No! Stop it! Please!”_

The pale orc ignored the cries from his victim, and licked his lips in anticipation.

The creature’s pains would only intensify as the hours wore on, so if Azog skipped out for a while he wouldn’t miss a thing.

The heir to Erebor would learn what true agony felt like, and from now on – it be _all_ he would know. And by the time Azog was through with him today his uncle and brother would tremble at the sight of him.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin has a bad dream, and Sulga receives some bad news. Thorin’s army finally arrives at Azog’s castle, and receives his terms of engagement, which also turn out to be quite bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is relatively free of violence and nastiness for once! It’s also a bit shorter than some of the others – it’s kind of a set up for the next chapter, where Thorin will take the plunge and go in to Azog’s mad castle. Obviously, he’s perhaps a bit stupid to do that, but what else is a desperate dwarf king to do?

**Thorin**

He was running, in a panic, in a daze – in some desperate, lung-bursting sprint to the end of a long corridor – running to reach them, to find them.

And then suddenly, he could see them.

It was Fili and Kili! At the end of the corridor, bound in chains.

They were prisoners.

But he could reach them, and free them!

They were almost safe at last...

But the pale orc appeared from nowhere, and in his dream, Thorin skidded to a halt in shock at the sight of his enemy.

The Defiler stood blocking his way, an angry grin on his ugly scarred face, and his bladed half-hand raised in salutation.

“No, let them go, Azog! Take me instead. Stay away from them!”

But the Defiler was already turning, and running at his nephews.

Thorin started forward with a groan, summoning every last breath he could muster and charging onwards.

He could reach them in time, he was faster than Azog, he was –

But the Defiler was behind them, all of a sudden.

It was impossible, but Thorin watched it with his own eyes, staring in horror as the pale orc grabbed his eldest nephew – as the bladed arm was raised again, and drawn right across the throat of his precious golden-haired heir.

“Fili, no! Look out!”

Thorin almost tripped, but caught his balance and ran on, even as he watched the beautiful young dwarf that he loved as a son fall to the ground in a shower of his own blood.

But there was no time for grief – he had to keep moving!

There was still time to save Kili. There was still a chance to reach him, he was unharmed, he was alive –

“Kili, I’m coming for you!”

But the Defiler was already lifting his bloodied blade to his youngest nephew’s chest.

“Uncle, you came too late.”

Kili was speaking to him softly, with tears on his face.

“You’ve failed us, and we’re dead now. I thought you cared for us? I thought you loved us?”

“Kili, I’m coming!”

“It’s too late now.”

His youngest nephew whispered to him, with those watchful, sad brown eyes that mesmerised him utterly, making him run harder – he would do _anything_ to reach his nephew in time, anything to save him –

“Thorin – ”

But the words died on Kili’s lips as the bladed half-arm burst through his chest, and his life’s blood trickled from his mouth even as he called mournfully to his uncle.

“Kili! No, not you as well!”

_“Thorin?”_

“Kili!”

“Thorin, wake up.”

He heard his lover’s voice behind him suddenly, and blinked to see the vision of his nephews was gone.

He was in the tent, under the blanket beside his hobbit, and Fili and Kili and the Defiler were nowhere to be seen.

“Thorin, you were dreaming.”

He looked around, feeling the dampness on his skin and the rapid pounding of his heart. It had been so real – he could still feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins and feel the shock and horror of watching his nephews die before his eyes.

“I saw them, Bilbo, in my dreams. They were there, they were in chains – ”

He felt the hobbit’s arms around his waist and took a deep breath.

“He murdered them, and I couldn’t stop him. I tried, but I couldn’t save them. Oh, Bilbo!”

He felt the warmth of the hobbit encircle him, and smelled the soothing scent of the sage and rosewater his lover used to wash his hair.

He tried to relax, to breathe deeply and inhale the comforting smell.

But he was afraid.

“What if it comes true, Bilbo? What if it was no dream, but a vision? What if I get there and I cannot save them?”

His lover watched him sombrely, and shook his head.

“You’re worried, Thorin. You haven’t slept properly for days. You haven’t eaten properly. You’ve done nothing but imagine all kinds of horrible things being done to them. And it doesn’t help them, you know? Torturing yourself isn’t going to help them.”

Thorin felt his anxiety spike at the sound of the evil word.

“You know what he did to my father, Bilbo. I told you how he was when they... found him. How bits of him had been... _removed_.”

He shook his head, hoping to still his mind from painting horrible pictures in his nephews’ blood.

“I can’t stop thinking about what he’s doing to them now. That he’s used them in that abominable ritual. That he’s hurting them, hurting them in ways that even elves can’t heal – and even if I can save them, they’ll never be able to forget what’s been done. They’ll never be themselves again. I’ve lost them either way now!”

He felt his lover’s arm release his waist, and Thorin rested his head on the hobbit’s chest, allowing the gentle little hands to brush through his hair, trying to soothe the hurt and worry from him.

The hobbit kissed his forehead.

“You haven’t lost them yet, Thorin. And we’re getting closer. We’re nearly there. Tomorrow we will send terms to him, and he will know he can’t win. You’ve raised an entire army, and marched it down from Erebor to this fell place – all for them. And all these people marching with you, they will help you, Thorin, they want to help Fili and Kili as much as you do! You’re not alone. And _they’re_ not alone either. They have each other. They will be strong for each other – you know they will.”

He nodded, and felt his hobbit sigh and stroke his head.

He wanted to believe it was true – wanted so badly to believe that together, his nephews would be unbreakable. That the love they felt for each other would be enough to see them through this nightmare.

That _he_ would be strong enough to pull them out of it, and bring them home safe from harm.

But all he felt was fear, and despite the little hobbit’s comforting words, all he heard in his mind was the haunting promise of his brown eyed nephew, ringing over and over, accusing his uncle again and again of being too late to protect those whom he loved.

 

____________________________________________________

**Sulga**

She stood on the balcony of her uncle’s room, watching the sun get slowly swallowed by the dark clouds over the mountain tops.

The sky was heavy, expectant. Threatening gusts of cold wind blew from the distant peaks, promising a change in the weather to come.

Winter would soon be upon them, and when it fell, she would be expected to return to her duties in command of her uncle’s armies.

And no matter how much she wanted to, she would be unable to bring the dark-eyed brother with her.

An orc army was no place for a soft dwarf princeling such as he was. He would be roasted alive by one of the cooks and his bones ground down for soup, the minute her back was turned.

Her soldiers would not _respect_ her for bringing him along.

They would whisper that she had lost her mind, that she had lost her stomach for violence. That she was just a female after all, and her uncle had been wrong to count on her.

She would have to leave him here, defenceless in her uncle’s dungeons.

But he was _hers_ , not his!

That was the deal they’d made.

That was her price!

She glared back at the sinking sun, hearing her uncle’s approach on the stairs.

She would make him understand that the brown eyed prince belonged to her. One way or another.

“Sulga, my dear, won’t you come inside? It’s getting chilly out there, and I have matters to discuss with you.”

She watched her uncle sit at his desk, a handsome cloak made of human hair draped over his shoulders and another bottle of Saltmarsh Special Brew in his one good hand.

He was the one who’d gone soft, not her!

All his hours spent bleeding helpless prisoners rather than waging war on their living enemies had given him a sense of invincibility that he didn’t deserve.

He’d become complacent, arrogant. He’d brought their enemies to their door with his letters and schemes, and as usual it would be down to her to sort out the mess.

She’d been given the news already from her spies. She’d been out hunting, been busy making plans, while her uncle had spent most of the day tormenting the blonde dwarf.

“Uncle, this afternoon I heard that Thorin Oakenshield is marching on us with a small army. He has elvish archers from Mirkwood and professional swordsmen along with his merry band of dwarves. They are coming for the princes that you took.”

Her uncle nodded, smiling.

“Yes, so I heard, Sulga. I knew Oakenshield would come for them sooner or later. He will have received his nephew’s letter by now – he will know what we expect of him once he is here.”

She paced up and down the room, concerned by her uncle’s apparent disregard for strategy.

“Of course, uncle. But nevertheless he has an army of over 150 soldiers. That’s too many for us here to deal with. Let me send for reinforcements from Mirkwood. They could be here in days to break the siege – and bring you Thorin Oakenshield’s head.”

Her uncle took a sip of his beer and shook his head.

“No need, Sulga. It’s not his head I want.”

She stopped her pacing and stared.

“What in Mordor do you mean? How do you expect us to defeat the dwarves without our army?”

Her uncle regarded her thoughtfully.

“With you, Sulga my dear. You’re all the army we need.”

She shook her head, tired of his nonsense.

“I cannot defeat 150 soldiers, uncle. We need those reinforcements.”

Her uncle waved his hand.

“We will arrange a hostage swap. You for Thorin Oakenshield. The dwarf scum king will be so desperate to see his nephews, he’ll run right into the keep. And you will be put in place, right in the midst of his armies.”

She raised an eyebrow at this, disapproval evident on her face.

“But you plan to seize Oakenshield the minute he enters our gates. How am I supposed to take down his entire army?”

Her uncle smiled maliciously, and waved the scroll that was lying on his desk.

“With this.”

She stared at the manuscript in his hand, and wondered whether her uncle had completely lost his mind.

“I will defeat his army with a piece of paper?”

Her uncle nodded, and smiled.

“Look at it, Sulga. It’s not just a piece of paper. It’s the _manuscript_. The elvish manuscript.”

She stared back icily.

“So? What am I supposed to kill with this?”

“So,” her uncle threw it down sharply on his desk, “it’s what the elves in his army have come for. They want their spellbook back. And we have no need for it here – I say we give them it back.”

“Right. So we give them their filthy elf parchment back. So what?”

“We give them their manuscript back, along with an offer to spill no more elf blood on the edges of Mirkwood for the next hundred years. And you will withdraw our armies from Mirkwood to Erebor, where we will take possession of the dwarf gold and occupy the mountain.”

She rolled her eyes, trying not to let her agitation show.

“And I suppose you think the men of Laketown will be happy with this arrangement?”

Her uncle shrugged.

“If we offer them gold and promise them peace, then why not? What have those dwarves ever done for the men of Laketown? What have they ever done for the elves of Mirkwood? These allies despise each other as much as they fear us. And given the right leverage, Thorin Oakenshield’s army will desert his cause and hand the dwarves over to me without a second thought. I will have the gold, the mountain, and Oakenshield’s family right where I want them.”

He smiled.

“And if Oakenshield’s friends want so badly to be reunited with those two young fools, then so be it. Then can be reunited with them in the dungeons and watch as I defile their royal family one at a time. First I will destroy those two pretty princes – then the failure king himself!”

Sulga stared at her uncle, narrowing her eyes.

“The younger one is _mine_ , uncle. That’s the agreement we made. I do not wish him to be torn up for your own amusement, or made to scream as the blonde one did today. I want the younger one _whole_.”

Her uncle scoffed.

“Sulga, my dear! I know he is pretty and you like them that way, but he is a _dwarf prince_. He is wholly unsuited for someone in your position to fornicate with. Besides,” her uncle’s voice darkened, “I need to hurt him in front of the blonde one. _Really_ hurt him. That’s the way to finally break Oakenshield’s oldest heir – by destroying his precious brother before his eyes!”

He smiled slowly, his eyes staring off in the distance, enthralled by his dark visions.

“Perhaps I will make Oakenshield watch at the same time. Perhaps I will make him join in. All the delicious options to choose from – it’s what I’ve wanted for decades, Sulga!”

Sulga stared at her uncle in anger.

She knew him better than to expect he would change his mind on this – even if he did need her help.

“You told me I could have the brunette prisoner for myself, uncle. Whatever I do with him is of no concern to you. That was the deal we made!”

Her uncle snapped out of his reveries, irritation on his face.

“You will be packing your bags once Oakenshield arrives and leading our armies on Erebor, as I have instructed. You will have no more time to play games with that prince, and nor will you see him again. If you want to fuck up some dwarves Sulga, I suggest you sharpen your knives and bring along some firewood for the scum still living in that filthy mountain.”

She glared at her uncle, and nodded slowly.

“I see. And will that be all, uncle?”

Her uncle smiled at her.

“That will be all, Sulga. Oakenshield’s army shall be here tomorrow, so you best get packing. You will deliver the terms to the elves of Mirkwood and the men of Laketown, and then you will depart with them for Erebor and leave the dwarf scum with me.”

She smiled thinly.

“As you command, uncle.”

But Azog was already turning back to the manuscript, studying the anatomical illustrations once again by the dim candle light and turning his mind back to the dwarves’ torments, this she could see.

So absorbed in the filthy pictures he was, that he saw nothing of her face as she walked past his desk, and so neither did he notice how she picked up the set of spare keys from the hooks on the wall as she stalked out, scowling at him the whole time in silent, simmering rage.

 

__________________________________________________

**Thorin**

The darkened keep stood before them in the still morning air, rising out of the flat, marshy grounds like a giant tombstone, whispering coldly of all manner of hidden horrors that went on inside its evil walls.

Thorin shivered as he stared up at it, wondering where inside its cells they were, wondering how he could ever find them in time, how he could save them.

They were so close to him now – just on the other side of that weathered masonry. But he felt just as powerless to help them from here as he’d been in the feasting hall of Erebor, days ago.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see his lover.

The little hobbit’s face was grim.

“There’s been another raven, Thorin. From him.”

The dwarf king swallowed, and turned away from the dismal castle.

“I’m coming.”

The hobbit led him over to their friends, where Balin was holding the raven’s scroll in a trembling hand, the red wax seal of the Defiler still visible unbroken on the rim.

Without a word, the dwarf king took the letter, and unrolled the paper to read aloud the orc lord’s message.

“To my old friend Thorin, I know you’ve had a long journey over the mountains and must be very tired.”

He took a deep breath, feeling his heart beating faster than ever, and tried to focus on the words.

“I invite you to join me for lunch and brandy, in the splendour of my beautiful swampland home. Your nephews shall both be present, and I am sure you have much to discuss with them – and with me.”

Thorin swallowed, and Dwalin met his eyes with a shake of the head.

“As a token of your safe passage, I will send my niece and heir, Sulga, daughter of Bollog the Burner, to rest within your army while we meet. She will have many fascinating tales to tell of how your nephews have fared in our company, stories that your heirs would be too shy to tell you, I’m sure.”

He felt his hobbit’s hand on his back, and ploughed onwards.

“Needless to say, if you do not come, I will have to entertain myself in other ways that your nephews will not enjoy quite so much, and your whole army shall be able to hear them voice their displeasure from where you have camped.”

He shut his eyes, and handed the foul note back to Balin without another glance.

“Your ever hospitable friend, Azog the Defiler.”

Dwalin was still shaking his head.

“It’s a trap, Thorin. You know it. Please, don’t go in there!”

But the dwarf lord shook his head, staring wide eyed at the towering keep, his mind alive to the danger of his nephews’ position.

“Of course it’s a trap, Dwalin. But what else can I do? If I don’t go in, Fili and Kili are as good as dead.”

His friend growled.

“And if you go in, then _you’re_ as good as dead, along with them!”

Beside him, he heard Bilbo clear his throat.

“Thorin, I know you want to try. But who is this Sulga? I have never heard of her before. Is it a trick?”

The dwarf lord shook his head.

“Unfortunately it is not, Bilbo. She’s his niece all right – a vicious killer, just like him. The last thing I heard of her, she was in control of orc soldiers near Mirkwood. She must have journeyed here, to help her uncle with his handiwork.”

He felt his face pale at the thought.

“I have heard tale of her depravities. And I cannot permit my nephews to remain inside there with her, not for a minute more. I’m going in, and none of you are going to stop me.”

The dwarves grumbled, unhappy with his decision.

Balin cleared his throat, and was about to speak up, when from over Thorin’s shoulder another voice chimed in.

“Pardon me, I couldn’t help but overhear.”

It was Legolas of Mirkwood, sashaying over with a calm smile and a polished self-assurance that immediately infuriated Thorin beyond reason or conscious control.

The elf prince had obviously been eavesdropping on their debate. As if his opinions mattered here and now, when Fili and Kili’s lives were at stake!

Thorin took a deep breath, clenching his fist under his furs.

“You are preparing yourself for a hostage swap, my lord king? That’s very noble of you. And you will be safe enough – that orc bitch is the chosen heir of the Defiler. He will see no harm come to her, not for a dwarf lord like you.”

The elf’s silvery blonde hair seemed to glow in the gloom of the dank morning air, even as he barged his way into their circle.

“My archers will take down anyone coming in or out of that keep. You can count on it. Once you’re inside, nobody shall leave its walls alive until you are back out here.”

Thorin nodded, trying to nod appreciatively. He hoped his friends would be reassured by the elf prince’s smug boasts, for once.

He turned to the little hobbit, standing beside him.

“You know I have no choice, Bilbo. I’m sorry.”

The hobbit nodded sadly.

“I know. They are your nephews, Thorin. Your kin. You must go, if that’s what it takes.”

The dwarf king felt his cheek twitch, and stole another glance up at the darkened keep.

It was early in the morning still, but there was no sign of life from inside the shuttered windows – no lights, no guards – no torches on the battlements.

But he knew, that somewhere inside, hidden eyes must be watching their every move.

He shivered.

“Send the raven back. Tell him I accept his terms. Tell him I will see him soon, and if Fili, Kili and myself are not released unharmed by sundown, then the whole keep will be torched, and nobody at all will be left alive in there.”

He saw the little hobbit looking up at him, his hazel eyes wide with worry.

“If we _burn_ the castle and you’re all still inside, Thorin...”

The dwarf lord nodded coldly.

“Then I will die with my nephews, in the flames. Better that way than his way, Bilbo. So be it.”

He swallowed, turning back to the keep and avoiding his lover’s eyes.

And strangely, for the first time in days he felt better.

The decision was made now. It was done. And come what may, he would get his chance to save his nephews, or by Mahal he would die trying.

It was time to bring Fili and Kili home.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin takes his first steps into Azog’s lair and is reunited with his nephews, while Sulga is traded for him in a hostage swap and takes her place amongst Thorin’s army.

**Azog**

  
Beer bottle in hand, he watched from his balcony as the lonely figure of the dwarf king approached the gate of the keep.

Azog belched in salutation, regarding his old foe with narrowing eyes.

The dwarf seemed smaller than he remembered him being – and somehow frailer looking despite his rich clothes and proud poise.

Like he already knew that he was beaten, and was just going through the motions that his foolish royal honour demanded of him.

Azog snorted in contempt and drained the rest of the bottle, fixing his eyes back to his unfolding triumph.

His niece strutted out from the gate, throwing Oakenshield a curious look as his long dark hair streamed out in the cold mountain winds. She was intercepted immediately by the rag-tag band of malcontents the dwarf lord had managed to collect, and started forward on her way.

Excellent.

All that remained was for his niece to play her part, and for old Oakenshield to play his.

In the dungeons, beside his nephews.

Where he belonged.

Giddy with delight – like a little orcling at his first taste of manflesh – Azog skipped down the stairs, two at a time, all the way down to the special cell on the lower level of the castle.

He heard the sound of marching, and in a matter of moments, the small shape of Thorin Oakenshield, cuffed and guided by two of his sturdiest guards, appeared at the end of the long, winding corridor.

It was a sight that fair made Azog’s wizened old heart skip a beat with pleasure!

The dwarf was dressed in fine fur robes, with elaborate golden patterning at the collar and a jewelled brooch pinned to his breast.

Such magnificent clothing would be a pleasure to strip away from him. In a matter of hours he would be naked and bleeding – just like his nephews.

But for now, he could be permitted to strut around in that nice fur cloak, imagining he had some dignity as a valued hostage.

Azog unlocked the cell with the iron key that hung by the door, and waited at the ready.

“Good day, _your majesty_. It’s a pleasure to see you like this after all these long years.”

He saw the dwarf king’s flinty eyes skimming over the cells in the dungeon, anger on his face and his cheeks reddening.

The grey eyes glared at the pale orc.

“Azog, so we meet again. Tell me,” he lifted his hands in the cuffs, “what sort of greeting is this for one who has travelled so far to see you? I was assured I would be made welcome as your guest. I trust there will be no more lies in what was promised me?”

The pale orc smiled.

“I can assure you, my friend, soon you will feel quite at home – surrounded by your family. But as you can imagine, these cuffs are necessary for our _own_ safe keeping. Who knows what kind of weaponry could be stowed upon your person? You dwarves are a devious bunch, and your skill at building hidden weapons is renowned.”

His eyes narrowed at the guards.

“Has he been searched? Thoroughly?”

The larger of the two nodded.

“We have removed his sword, master. That was all he carried.”

The guard reached into his cloak and produced a fine silver blade, holding it out for Azog’s inspection.

The pale orc studied the sword in the candle light, noting the fine angular patterning on the hilt with obvious appreciation.

“A beautiful piece of work. Truly, it is. You lot know how to make a nice blade, I’ll give you that.”

He smiled down at Oakenshield, and aimed the sharp end right at the dwarf’s throat.

“I think I’ll keep it. You can consider it a tribute – for expenses incurred in feeding your young kinsmen.”

The dwarf fidgeted in the cuffs, his eyes wandering around the cell doors.

“Where are they? What have you done to them? Let me see my nephews at once! Let me talk to them.”

Azog grinned, lowering the sword and reaching for the door handle.

“As you command, my little king.”

He nodded to the guards.

And quick as a flash, the burly pair grabbed at the dwarf lord, lifting him off his feet with ease and carrying him, struggling and kicking, into the cell where his heirs already waited.

But as the dwarf was carried through the door and caught a glimpse of what was inside, Azog saw the fight die on his limbs, and heard his voice crack with pain.

_“Oh Mahal_ , what have you done to them? What have you _done?”_

Azog grinned and surveyed his victory.

The two young dwarves were shackled to the wall, on opposite sides of the cell. Their hands and feet were locked in place, binding them to the cold stone wall.

Azog had left them both naked in the damp air, their princely attire and royal regalia long since vanished – leaving the full abuse they had been subjected to plain for all to see.

The brunette’s face was marred by a black eye, but his furious gaze at the sight of his king bound in chains was enough to make Azog harden right then and there.

All his hopes of escape – of being rescued by his rich royal uncle, no doubt gone in an instant when he saw the old dwarf was now as helpless as he was.

The prince grunted in vain through the gag in his mouth, frantically shaking his head at Oakenshield, trying desperately to communicate some kind of emotion that words would not even express.

The dwarf king shook his head in horror, his eyes wide as he took in the wild sight of his youngest nephew.

But as his eyes moved across the cell, he howled in rage.

The bruises and scars along his blonde heir’s face and chest still shone out bright against the freckled skin, but far uglier injuries marred his ravaged body.

His male organ had been impaled right through by a thick, silver rod, and the flesh of it was red and hideously swollen. The wicked implement was held in place by a pair of needles pierced horizontally through his flesh, in some orcish device of cruelty the like of which Oakenshield could never have imagined.

But it wasn’t even the worst assault visible on his golden-haired kinsman – the prince’s stomach was heavier than it should be for one so thin and frail looking.

The beginnings of the pregnancy were obvious now, and the dwarf king stopped and stared in revulsion at his beloved nephew, understanding immediately what had been done to him.

The creature’s ruined body displayed it all, and the dwarf lord tried to wriggle free of the guards’ clutches and run to him.

“No, Fili, look at me!”

But the blonde dwarf closed his eyes and hung his head in shame, as if by choosing not to see his uncle’s capture he could deny its very reality.

Azog grinned, watching as the guards shackled Oakenshield into position, on the far wall between his two pretty nephews.

“Well, this is an emotional reunion, isn’t it? I bet you’ve all got so much you want to talk about!”

The dwarf king’s face was a picture of fury.

“You will die for this, Azog! I swear, before the end of today, you will be dead in your swamp and this place will be burning to the ground.”

Azog shrugged.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Thorin. I’ll wager you, that by the end of today, your dwarf friends will be hung up beside you in here and you’ll be watching me burn them alive, one by one.”

The dwarf king glowered.

“My army has your keep surrounded, Azog. There’s no escape for you! So let me and my kinsmen go right now or you and your henchmen will all die in here.”

The pale orc ignored the dwarf king’s outburst, and stole a sly glance at the blonde.

The creature was still standing with his eyes shut, swaying slightly on his feet, seemingly oblivious to all that went on around him.

Azog sidled up.

“Tell me, Fili. Do you think your uncle should listen to me, and learn to obey me as you have?”

He put one grey, clammy hand on the sad-faced creature’s cheek, and clutched the other tenderly at the dwarf’s growing belly.

And Oakenshield’s heir stood there motionless, allowing the pale orc to touch him so familiarly without complaint – without opening his eyes or drawing a single breath.

Azog bent down to kiss the dwarf’s lips, forcing his tongue inside the blonde’s little mouth and tasting him hungrily.

And with a deliberate show of cruelty, the pale orc slipped his hand lower and twisted at the wicked device fitted on the creature’s flesh, not breaking their kiss even as the dwarf prince moaned in pain.

“You fucking _animal.”_

He heard Oakenshield’s voice, hoarse with anger, and saw the narrow grey eyes of the dwarf king glaring at him from his red face.

“What in Mahal’s name have you _done_ to him?”

Azog dropped his game with the prince and strolled over towards the dwarf king, allowing a slow, crooked smile to spread across his face.

“Exactly what I promised in my letter, Thorin. Your named heir has been utterly defiled – by me and my guards. Why, even his younger brother has had a go at him! He’s been fucked by every cock in this castle – except yours, of course. But there’s still time for that.”

Azog winked at the dwarf king.

The breath caught in the older dwarf’s throat, and he stared in dismay at his eldest nephew.

“Oh, Fili – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’m too late.”

He whispered his pleas to the blonde, but still the blue eyes stayed closed and unseeing.

“He’s infested now you know – pregnant. Shot full of my orc seed and with a swelling belly to prove it.”

Azog gestured to the miserable creature.

“As you can well see.”

The dwarf king was shaking his head in rage.

“I will kill you, I will kill every last orc in this place for this, do you hear me?”

But the pale orc smiled, and turned away.

“No, I don’t think you will, Thorin. Now let me tell you why that is.”

He prowled across the room, making his way to the dark haired nephew, who glared in fury at his approach.

“Your youngest nephew, Thorin. I have spared this one, I promise you. He is undefiled, unspoilt – still fit to serve as your heir and sit on the throne of Erebor.”

The dwarf lord locked eyes with the dark-haired brother, and Azog saw a desperate look pass between them.

He had the dwarf king right where he wanted him alright, this was just too easy!

“Get to the point, Azog. What do you want from me? You want my gold in Erebor? You can have it. You can have it all, just let me leave here with my lads.”

He stared at the pale orc, and Azog saw his grey eyes were shining in the candle light.

Shining with desperation.

_“Please,_ I beg this of you. Let them go.”

Azog strolled back towards the dwarf lord, pretending to consider.

“You must know that _you_ shall never leave this castle alive, Thorin Oakenshield. You and I have plenty of unfinished business to attend to, and I have such wonderful experiences to share with you here.”

The dwarf lord nodded, his anger still apparent.

“Fine. Keep me as your prisoner, take your revenge. But let them go. They are innocent, Azog! They have done nothing to you!”

The pale orc nodded to the blonde.

“He is pregnant with my seed, Thorin. There’s no way I can let him go in his _condition._ And besides,” he smiled nastily at the dwarf king, “he sucks my cock so well, I think I’ll have to keep him here _forever.”_

The dwarf king choked on his words, and shook his head.

“Azog, please – listen to me – ”

But the pale orc growled.

“No, you listen to _me,_ Thorin Oakenshield. You do not call the shots here. I do. And I’m telling you, your blonde nephew is mine now. Mine forever. Mine to torment, and mine to defile, as many times as I feel like. And so are you! You will come to suffer the same degradation that he has – you can count on it! The only question is what shall be done with your youngest, _prettiest_ nephew.”

He gestured to the brunette.

“Should I set him free, or should he stay and suffer here along with his brother? It’s up to you, Thorin. It’s your choice.”

The dwarf king shook his head, enraged.

“Let him go then, Azog. Let him go this instant!”

Azog clapped his hands together in mock amusement.

“You know Thorin, I had a feeling you’d say that. But in order for me to let him go, I need you to do something for me first.”

The dwarf king looked frantically at his youngest nephew, who was shaking his head bitterly, as if trying to warn his uncle off.

“What then, Azog? What do you want from me?”

The pale orc grinned, and produced a small knife from inside his furs.

He held it up to the light, and the dwarf lord saw the evil way the sharpened edge gleamed in the flickering candle light.

“I need you to cut him.”

The pale orc’s voice was soft, sensual.

“If he is set free, he cannot ever continue your family line. Your line of Durin must die here today. That is my offer. If you want him set free, then you will have to castrate him.”

The dwarf king stared in disbelief, his face growing pale.

_“What?”_

His voice was a hiss, a doubtful whisper. But Azog knew full well the dwarf king had understood all too well.

“You heard me, Thorin Oakenshield. Cut him, cut him right now. Or I will kill him before your eyes.”

“No, I _can’t!”_

The dwarf king wailed, and for the first time, the blonde brother opened his eyes and stared in startled wonder at his uncle.

The brunette was trying to mumble something through his gag, all the while shaking his head, and Azog stole a glance at the dwarf’s beautiful cock and balls, untouched and ripe for the plucking against the dark thatch of hair on his groin.

So perfect, so untouched.

So ready to be spoiled.

He licked his lips.

Maybe he would have the organs skinned, or maybe these could be tanned. The cock was a lovely specimen – rather long for a dwarf – and perhaps could even be gifted as a toy to Sulga as a thank you for all her sterling work in this little project.

“Do it, you have to do it _now,_ Thorin – and I shall allow you to cauterise his wound with pitch. But if you will not, and I have to do it myself, then you shall watch him bleed to death from the amputation.”

The dwarf king groaned in defeat, and clenched his grey eyes shut.

“What do you say, Thorin? I have the knife here, ready. I need your answer _now.”_

The dwarf lord nodded his head, staring at the floor in dejected misery.

And at the hopeless gesture, the pale orc grinned at the two brothers in triumph.

He noted the dazed horror dawning in the blonde’s blue eyes with amusement, and delighted in the blank terror now spreading across the brunette’s pretty young face – as the frenzied prisoner shook his head and whined through the gag.

And with a sensual smile, the pale orc fingered the silver knife, his eyes transfixed by the youngest dwarf’s lovely long cock, and licked his lips in pleasure.

He advanced with the knife.

________________________________________________________________

**Sulga**

 

She felt the winds blowing cold from the mountain – stronger out here, in the swampy field.

It was a good thing she’d packed her riding furs, and her shiny black boots. The rabble had cuffed her hands the minute she’d strolled into their clutches, and sitting here on the damp grass tied to a stake, she was growing rather cold in the bitter winds.

Her uncle had always taught her to come prepared, and it was one lesson she’d never ignored.

She took in the faces around her – the ugly, course features of the dwarves, the sickeningly smug, over-pampered smiles of the elves, and the hard and blank eyes of the men of Laketown, wondering who was in charge of this mob now Oakenshield was inside with her uncle.

With her _Kili._

She knew what her uncle had planned – she was no fool. And she had no intention of stomaching this betrayal of his, not after everything he’d promised her.

She was Sulga, his niece and heir, and she would be treated with the respect she deserved!

One way, or another.

She saw a small creature lingering by her side, smaller than the dwarves even, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. What was it? Some kind of imp? A malformed, hairy child?

“Speak to me, _creature._ Tell me, who leads this army in the absence of its king?”

The little beast shrugged, and pointed sadly to one of the taller dwarves.

“Dwalin is Thorin’s second in command, now that Fili is... _not here._ But Thorin gave me strict orders, my lady. You are to stay here, with us – ”

_“Us?”_

She stared at the creature, in open wonder.

“So you’re fighting with the dwarves now, are you? On personal terms with their king?” She shook her head.

“Listen to me, little creature. Let me speak to this Dwalin. I have a proposal for him that I think will interest you all greatly.”

She saw the doubt blooming on the creature’s face.

“I’m a _hobbit,_ my lady. And I’ve been told to guard you, and not let you trick me into – ”

She sighed in displeasure.

“My uncle is going to _kill your king,_ you do realise that? He is going to kill your king’s heirs, and he is probably getting started on it right now. Do you _want_ that to happen to them?”

She stared hard at the strange little hobbit, her black eyes boring into him.

The little fellow swallowed thickly.

“No, no of course not.”

“Then bring this _Dwalin_ over here to speak to me right now, before it’s too late for all your friends.”

She watched as her words had the desired effect, and the freakish little creature brought a scowling, black-haired dwarf skulking over in his wake.

“My lady,” the dwarf glared down at her, his face full of mistrust, “you have something to tell me, is that so?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the dwarf’s lumpen face. She could see his hatred and contempt for her written there, as surely as if he’d scrawled it in ink across his stupid ugly forehead.

But no matter.

She hated him too – she hated _all_ of them.

All of them except her little Kili.

And she would be taken as a fool by no one, not even her own uncle.

“Listen to me, _dwarf._ Your king is in danger. His heirs are in danger. If you want to get them out of my uncle’s keep alive, you will need my help.”

The dwarf narrowed his eyes.

“Is this a joke? I’ve heard what you do to people, Sulga of the _Red Lodge._ We don’t need help from orc witches like you.”

He was about to turn his back on her, but the hobbit grabbed his arm.

“What if she’s telling the truth, Dwalin? What if she can help us? I don’t want them to die in there!”

The dwarf gazed down at the little hobbit and frowned.

_“Please,_ Dwalin.”

The dwarf sighed.

He turned back towards her, glaring.

“Say your piece and be done with it.”

She scowled back, and tried to sit up straighter.

“My uncle has taken your king prisoner, and does not mean for him to be returned.”

The dwarf raised his brows.

“If this is true, then why do we need to keep _you_ alive?”

She glared into the dwarf’s cold blue eyes, and saw he was interested, despite his mockery. They were all of them oh-so desperate to get their friends back, and none of them could hide it from her.

She glanced at the keep, studying the battlements to make sure her soldiers were in position, and nodded.

“Those archers on the tower, Dwalin – see for yourself. Those are _my_ troops, not my uncle’s, and they are loyal to me. They will stand down if I give the signal, whatever my uncle commands.”

The dwarf followed her gaze and frowned.

“And why would you signal them that, my lady? Why would you go against your uncle’s orders?”

She snorted in rage.

“My uncle’s orders. You know nothing of my uncle or his orders! What about _my_ orders, Dwalin? Do you think they are less important than his? Do you think my troops are not loyal to me? Not think they have had enough of my uncle’s stupidity just as I have?”

The dwarf and hobbit exchanged a glance.

“You might be the leader of those troops, Sulga, but you are still your uncle’s servant, and he is your master. You only give orders because of the trust he has placed in you. Why would you disobey him to help our cause? Forgive me if your story seems rather implausible to me.”

She shook her head in disgust.

“He is no leader, not anymore. Once he was to be respected, admired. Feared by all our enemies. When I was an orcling I idolised him! But now he has corrupted himself, and grown fat and indolent.”

She glared up at the keep.

“His unhealthy obsession with torturing your blonde prince has affected his mind – and his judgement. He is not fit to rule anymore, and should be taken down before he brings shame to my family’s legacy.”

The dwarf’s ugly face had paled.

“What do you mean, _torturing?_ What’s happened to young Fili?”

She stared back at the pair of them, and raised her eyebrows in answer.

The old warrior stifled a groan and looked away.

“My uncle must be stopped. You know it, and I know it. So let’s work together. Let me go, and I shall order my archers to stand down while you enter the keep. There is a hidden way inside, through the sewers. It leads straight into the dungeons, where your friends are being held. You could go in, and you could save them.”

The dwarf frowned again, but this time there was no mockery on his face.

“We’d never get them out alive. If what you say is true, your uncle would be there, with his guards. We’d never break them out in time.”

She shook her head.

“Set up a diversion. Attack the front gate. If you are quick, you’ll be able to save them – I can tell you where they are in the cells.”

The little hobbit spoke up, his voice pleading.

“But how will we get them out? From their cells? Even if your uncle is away, we can’t break through the doors before – ”

“I have the keys.”

She stared at him, seeing his strange, hazel eyes blink several times as he took in her words.

“You have the keys? The keys to their cells?”

She smiled.

“Right in here.”

She glanced down at the furs around her cleavage.

“Take a look.”

The old dwarf gave his little friend a doubtful gaze, and without a word stuck his hand into her robes and felt for a pocket.

And with a small cry, he found what he searched for. He held the small set of copper keys aloft, and stared at them in confusion.

“How do we know this isn’t a trap, my lady? If we free you, and venture inside that keep, we could all be killed. Tell us why we should risk that.”

The hobbit stared at her, imploring her to convince them both.

She shrugged.

“You dwarves are supposed to be honourable, that’s what I thought. I know your fool princes would risk themselves for any one of you – they both seem particularly ill-raised in that regard. Your dwarf king too, by the look of it. Only you are both too afraid to help them. Is that what you’re telling me?”

The little hobbit looked to the dwarf in appeal, and his friend shook his head angrily.

“Oh no, you will not accuse me of that.”

He glared up at the tower.

“We will free you, and you will command your troops to stand down. And if they do not – we will kill you. If they do stand down, then we shall listen to what you have to say about our friends, but if we go inside that keep and are not out in half an hour, then you shall die. Is that a deal you can hold to?”

She shrugged.

“Fine. Half an hour is more than you need in there. Release me now, and I will give the order.”

The dwarf nodded, and reached inside his pocket for the key to her cuffs.

And beside her, she saw the strange little hobbit creature looking at her in wonder.

“Why are you helping us, Sulga? If you wanted your uncle dead, I’m sure there are easier ways than this.”

She nodded.

“Oh yes, I’ve thought about killing the useless old prick many a time.”

She smiled, staring at the keep in cold fury.

“But I’m doing this for a _friend,_ little hobbit. For someone he means to hurt, who I much prefer being alive and whole.”

The little hobbit stared at her, his eyes wide.

“You’re doing this for one of them? How does he mean to hurt them, Sulga? What can we do to stop it?”

She felt the cuffs loosen on her hands, and jumped to her feet.

“Have no fear, little hobbit. I will tell you _everything_ you need to know.”

She stared up at the battlements, and gave a wave of her hand, waiting until a black flag was waved in response.

“The archers are down now, you may proceed as I command.”

She stared at the little hobbit, and smiled.

“And tell Kili that Sulga sends her regards.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is now stuck in Azog’s dungeons with his nephews and a horrible choice before him – but will his friends manage to save them all before the pale orc’s nasty plans come true?

**Thorin**

He moved in a daze, feeling the heaviness of the small knife in his hand as if it were made of lead.

How could he do this?

How could he willingly _mutilate_ his nephew like this?

He stared down at the knife in dismay, and willed his legs to move forward, towards where Kili stood chained to the wall, but he could not.

He _couldn’t_ do it.

He met his nephew’s terrified brown eyes, and shook his head.

Maybe he could take on Azog instead, maybe this fruit knife to the fiend’s throat would be enough to –

“Get on with it, _dwarf_ , or I will do it myself. And if I do it, I will open every one of your nephew’s veins and you can watch him bleed to death right here and now.”

Thorin shook his head, trying to control his mind.

He had to think, think!

What could he do, how could he stop this madness?

But Azog was shuffling over to Kili now, raising his bladed half-arm to his nephew’s throat, and glaring down at him with the same hideous face he’d seen before in his worst nightmares.

“Do it, Oakenshield. _Cut him_.”

The monster took hold of Kili’s parts, and held them out to Thorin.

“Cut him, cut him now. Or I will!”

Thorin shook his head, his hand trembling all of a sudden.

“Azog, please, listen to me – ”

But his voice was drowned out by a loud blast from a trumpet, coming from somewhere high above the dungeon level.

The dwarf king stared around the cell in shock, realising that the pale orc was glaring up at the ceiling.

“Curses to them all, I told them to shoot the dwarf scum on approach!”

Thorin met Kili’s eyes, and wondered if it was hope that he saw there.

The pale orc punched at the wall in a rage, then stopped abruptly.

He’d obviously thought better of showing his frustration in front of his newest _guest_.

He leered down at Thorin with a grin.

“I’m sorry, my little friends. I must depart for now – urgent business to attend to, and all that. But have no fear, I will return soon. And we shall continue our little game down here, and see whether you have the _balls_ to do what must be done, Thorin Oakenshield.”

And without even bothering to chain the dwarf king back to the wall, the pale orc hurried from the cell.

Thorin stared at Kili’s wide eyes, as they both heard the key turning in the lock, and the footsteps departing quickly down the corridor.

This was it! This was his chance. He had to be quick.

“ _Kili,_ oh Mahal!”

He hurried to his nephew’s side, his limbs moving freely again, and examined the bolts on the dwarf’s shackles. There was a lock on them, but maybe if he picked the lock with the knife...

But first things first.

Maybe Kili knew something, maybe he could assist.

With a shaking breath, he cut away the gag from his nephew’s face, and removed the bit from his nephew’s mouth.

Kili stared at him helplessly, his breath coming hard.

“Don’t do it, please Thorin! Just let him kill me. I don’t want to live _like that_!”

Thorin pressed his head against his nephew’s forehead, and took a deep breath. He could smell the sour scent of Kili’s unwashed skin, and wondered how he could ever make things up to his youngest heir.

“Listen to me, Kili. We’re getting out of here, right now. So put yourself together and think! Is there a key for these shackles? Do you know, or would your brother know?”

The dark haired dwarf shook his head.

“No, he took them with him – they’re in his pocket. You’ll need to use the knife, Thorin! Use the knife!”

The dwarf king crouched down, and examined the shackles. The knife blade alone would not be enough, he realised. It was too wide, and the locking mechanism would need another prong. Remembering the pin on his brooch, he reached for the gold jewellery, and set to work on the metal.

“Fili, are you alright? Can you hear me?”

He heard his nephew calling to his brother, but didn’t dare look up.

Kili moaned in frustration.

“Can you do it, uncle? Can you break us out?”

Thorin ignored the question, and felt the spring in the lock click as the combination of the brooch pin and knife tricked the mechanism.

The shackle popped open around Kili’s left leg, and he heard the young dwarf gasp.

“Quickly, get the others!”

He nodded, and moved between the remaining locks, his progress quicker now he knew the technique to use.

And all the time, he felt a pressure on his shoulders – as if the pale orc was already stalking down the stairs on his way back – ready to complete his lunatic mission...

But before he knew it, Kili was free.

The last shackle on his arm was loosed, and the dwarf sprang away from the wall and towards his brother.

“You pick the locks, Thorin. Let me look at him.”

Nodding, the dwarf king started again on the shackles fixing Fili to the wall, his hands trembling again from the adrenaline. How long did they have? How long had the pale orc been away?

What would he do if he found them here, like this?

Thorin felt white hot terror on his chest as he thought he heard footsteps in the hallway.

He stopped, meeting Kili’s eyes with a look of panic, but the sound didn’t come again and he got back to his work.

Beside him, he heard Kili pulling the gag off his brother’s face, and heard the anguish in his nephew’s voice as he whispered to his brother.

“Fili, speak to me. What’s wrong?”

“ _Kili_ ,” the older brother’s voice was dry and weak, “it _hurts_. Take it off me, _please_.”

Thorin heard the younger brother sigh as he examined his brother’s injured body, and felt his breath catch as the first of the locks was loosed.

“I can’t, Fili. Not without it hurting more.”

Thorin found his voice, and tried to keep his tone neutral.

“When we are out we’ll have it off in an instant, Fili. You can count on it. Your friends are waiting for you outside, we just need to get out of here – ”

He heard the second lock pop open, and moved to his nephew’s arms.

“That’s right, Fili. We’ll be out of here soon, just stay with me – hold on to me, and don’t let me go, do you hear? Stay beside me where I can help you.”

The blonde dwarf murmured something that Thorin couldn’t catch, and seemed to swoon on the wall.

Kili groaned.

“Thorin, we need to get him out of here.”

“I know.”

“He needs to see a doctor!”

“I know!”

The dwarf king managed to loose another lock, but his blood ran cold at the sudden noise in the hallway.

It was footsteps. Definitely footsteps this time, there was no mistaking it.

And they were coming straight for the cell, moving with purpose towards them...

“Kili,” he motioned to the door, “try and hold _him_ off, give me another minute to free your brother!”

His nephew nodded, his face growing pale, and darted to the door.

Thorin heard his eldest heir groan as his brother left his side, and turned to the last lock, trying to ignore the shaking in his fingers.

“Kili, please... _come back_.”

“Your brother will be back in a moment, Fili. He’s not gone far.”

“Don’t leave me _here_.”

“Nobody’s leaving anyone, Fili. We’re all waiting for you. I promise you.”

Above him, the young dwarf groaned.

“Don’t let him hurt _Kili_...”

Thorin heard the last lock turn and the shackle on his nephew’s right arm was free.

“Fili, can you walk? Can you hear me?”

But the dwarf stumbled from the wall and Thorin had to grab at his nephew’s shoulder to stop him from falling straight onto the floor.

“Fili, I’ve got you, hold onto me!”

Thorin held the blonde dwarf in his arms, and felt the shallow, pained breathing of his eldest nephew. He’d never seen the lad so weak and helpless – not since he’d been a tiny baby – and the thought of what that fiend had done to his own flesh and blood made his blood boil with murderous rage.

He tried to swallow it down, to carry on right now, to get _all_ of them away from here before _he_ came back...

He eyed the door helplessly, hearing the key jingle in the lock, seeing the door start to swing open.

“No, no, keep away from us!”

He heard his voice shouting, in a queer, tight tone that made his skin crawl.

Kili would never be enough to stop him when he came in, and what could _he_ do against the Defiler – armed with only a small vegetable knife and a golden brooch pin?

The door opened, and Thorin felt his heart stand still.

It was his hobbit – of all people – standing in the doorway.

How the hell had he got in here? What was he doing?

“Bilbo!”

Thorin stood, clutching at his injured nephew, the shock showing in his grey eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

The hobbit scanned the room, nodding at Kili, who looked ready to throw a punch at him.

“I’m rescuing you, what does it look like?”

The hobbit’s voice was irritated, and he gestured for them to follow.

“Come on, there’s not much time.”

Thorin stared at Kili, who shrugged helplessly.

And without another word, the dwarf king slung his golden haired heir over his shoulder, and followed the others from the accursed cell and down through the corridor.

“Where are you taking us, Bilbo? How did you get here?”

The little hobbit pointed up ahead, to a small gap in the guttering at the end of the corridor.

“The sewers, quick – follow me. Once we’re in there, they won’t be able to find us!”

Thorin stared at the small hole doubtfully as they approached.

Perhaps if he sucked his gut in, he could just about squeeze through... but the space was tight, even for the hobbit.

“Dwalin’s waiting on the other side, Thorin. He couldn’t get through. You’ll have to suck in your – ”

“Yes, I know. I’m getting fat!” He stared round the corridor, gesturing wildly.

“Just go through yourself and be quick about it!”

He thought he could hear footsteps coming now, but he wasn’t sure. This whole castle seemed to echo with vibrations and whispers and hurt and despair like a madhouse. It was hard to know what was real, looking around its shadowy corners.

He felt like he was losing his mind, and he’d been in here less than an hour.

He heard his blonde nephew groan, and gently set him down on the floor beside the hole.

He saw Bilbo had gone through already, and he motioned to Kili.

“Once you’re in, take his feet – pull him through.”

He saw Kili nod, glancing in concern at his brother.

The dwarf had passed out, and was lying unconscious, as if in a fever. His skin was cold and clammy, and something in his flesh smelled rancid and unclean.

He brushed his nephew’s face, hoping to stir him.

“You’re nearly there, Fili, hold on.”

He thought he heard a sound once more, and flinched – expecting to see the pale orc running crazily down the corridor towards them as he had in Thorin’s restless nightmares.

But the corridor was empty, and nobody came.

There were noises upstairs, through the ceiling – noises of commotion and shouting.

But nobody appeared.

And taking a deep breath, he took his nephew in his arms and pushed his legs through the hole in the guttering, ready for his younger brother to take to safety.

His blonde hair disappeared into the crack, and Thorin sighed in relief.

And looking around one last time, he wriggled like a grub through the little hole, cursing every plate of his hobbit’s fine cooking and vowing to lay off the ale for the next year or five.

 

_________________________________________________________________

**Sulga**

She could feel their eyes on her, staring in shock. Even when her back was turned, she heard the whispers.

“ _Dwarf scum_ ,” she hissed through her teeth, meeting their fearful eyes with a direct scowl as she stalked her way to the front of their army.

She could see her troops watching silently as the men and elves approached the gate of the keep.

They held their fire, although she’d heard the defensive alarm being trumpeted through the entire castle.

Her uncle’s guards were no doubt amassing already, waiting to attempt to press her own loyal archers into picking off Thorin’s army one by one as they stood by the swamp.

How they would get a shock when her archers revealed their true allegiance!

She smiled at the thought, how after all these years of taking orders from her maddening uncle, she would soon be free of him forever. Free to do as she pleased, free to fuck as she pleased, and free to _rule_ as she pleased.

She looked up, feeling satisfaction blossom in her breast as she saw his figure emerge on the balcony.

He was watching her. Shaking his fist at her. Glaring down at her.

And she knew now, that he understood.

Understood that she’d stood up to him, disobeyed him. Betrayed him.

Outmanoeuvred him.

She smiled, and gave him a cheerful wave.

And giggling, she turned to the elven archer as he strutted past. The one with the shining white blonde hair, and the arrogant swagger.

“Ho there, _elf_ ” she summoned him, and in surprise the haughty face turned and raised a silver brow in astonishment.

“Were you addressing _me_ , my lady? Don’t you know who I _am_?”

She giggled, pointing to the balcony.

“No, but I know who _that_ is. Give me a loan of your bow, there’s a good chap.”

The elf’s jaw dropped as she grabbed his golden weapon from around his shoulders, and picked out an arrow from the sling he wore.

“Be careful with that – it’s... worth more gold than you own!”

She saw her uncle still shaking his fist at her, his face a picture of fury.

“You ungrateful whore! Stop this madness now and come to your senses at once, or I’ll skin you alive and hang you from the gateposts!”

“I don’t think so, _uncle dearest_. You don’t get to give the orders anymore, can’t you see? Stand down and accept my rule, and I’ll let you live quietly in this keep for the rest of your days.”

But the pale orc’s eyes bored down on her, as black and pitiless as pits of molten tar.

“You traitor witch. I’d rather roast in the seven levels of hell than submit to _you_. You faithless fucking whore!”

She giggled, feeling her face burning red in excitement.

“Well then, safe travels getting there, uncle! Give your devils my regards.”

And with a swoosh of the bowstring, her arrow was away.

It sailed up to the balcony, and though her uncle tried to dodge, it clipped him in the side of the neck.

She heard him squeal in surprise – she’d always been a rather terrible shot with the bow as an orcling – and no doubt he didn’t realise how she’d practised all these years to become more skilful in her craft.

The pale orc staggered on the balcony, his one good hand pressed against his neck where the arrow had pierced him.

“Sulga, you traitor bitch! I’m going to _kill_ you – I’m going to – ”

But as he raged against her, she quickly strung the bow a second time, and before he’d even finished she’d silenced him forever with an arrow through the mouth.

He hung on there, staring at her in bafflement as the blood fountained round his throat.

Until like a sack of potatoes, he finally lost his balance on the balcony and fell head first into the swamp below.

She watched the mud bubble and fizz as her uncle’s body sank below the ooze, and smiled.

She wouldn’t be seeing any more of him again!

It was time to claim her castle, and rid herself of all these fools.

The elf prince was blinking at her in surprise, as she handed him back his bow.

“That was an _incredible_ shot! However did you manage that?”

She glanced at him in surprise, seeing honest admiration on his face.

“Why, it was easy with the wind gusting the way it is. Haven’t you ever done that back in Mirkwood?”

The elf shrugged blandly.

“We don’t get much wind in Mirkwood, my lady. It’s a large forest, the biggest in – ”

“Yes, yes, I know what fucking Mirkwood is.”

With a scowl, she turned her back on the elf, watching again to see whether her uncle’s corpse had truly sunk.

And then, from the bushes by the side of the swamp, she saw the little hobbit emerging from the hidden ventilation shaft.

She watched for a second, aware that beside her, the elf prince was still babbling his nonsense, and saw the hobbit’s companions emerge, one by one, from the sewer system.

So they’d made out it after all. Alive, and well. Or not so well, in the blonde brother’s case – judging from the look of him.

But her little Kili was unharmed.

He was safe – she could see from the way he walked that no damage had been inflicted.

And that pleased her.

That was good.

She might hit him up one day, in Erebor, if she chose to disguise herself as one of the soft folk. She could wear a nice dress, and practise simpering up like the higher class ladies did, and maybe then he would fall in love with her.

She saw him take hold of the struggling blonde, and sighed.

Or maybe not.

She rolled her eyes, and turned back to the elf.

He was still prattling on, but he was rather handsome beneath all the layers of arrogance. Obviously aristocratic, just like her. He had the profile of the elven king, and she realised she’d heard tale of this one.

They said he was loose with his affections.

Maybe if she got her claws into him, and stripped him down, and taught him how to behave around her, he might be an altogether more palatable proposition.

She eyed up the silvery blonde hair, noting its exotic lustre, and ran her own fingers through her tangled tresses.

Pulling the messy braids out, she took the elf’s arm and marched him towards the keep.

“Tell me, _elf_ , how long are you planning on staying around these parts?”

The elf blinked at her, and looked around the ranks of soldiers uncertainly.

“Until the job is done, my lady?”

“That’s good,” she nodded. “Why don’t you come inside my keep, and we can talk terms? There’s been a lot of violence around your father’s kingdom of late, and maybe, with our mutual planning, we can bring it to an end?”

The elf smiled smugly.

“Lead on, my lady. I am excellent at planning.”

She took one last glance back at the dark haired dwarf, and giggled, remembering the potion she’d given to the little hobbit.

With the very particular instructions attached to its consumption.

She’d told him it was a sedative meant only for the dark haired prince. But perhaps in the weeks to come the dwarves would work out what it had really been.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, _elf_ , I happen to be rather good at making plans myself.”

 

________________________________________________________________

**Kili**

His brother was weak, weak and cold in his arms, and it felt like an eternity until they got him to the doctor.

Old Oin was waiting for them all, in some hastily put up tent – along with two elvish healers who’d been recruited by Balin.

The old dwarf seemed rather upset by the sight of his injured prince – he’d known Fili and Kili since before they were born – but quickly hid whatever thoughts he privately held and trained his face in a mask of scholarly neutrality.

The old dwarf doctor seemed initially suspicious of his elvish colleague’s opinions, wondering aloud in pointed jest whether they secretly meant to kill the heir of Erebor with their heathen concoctions – but as soon as they laid out their potions and herbs he was most interested – comparing notes and remedies and talking about his favourite alchemists even as they examined the patient.

Kili shook his head, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall under the blanket they’d wrapped him in, as the healers discussed his injuries, and probed the damaged tissues of his body.

He could barely stand to hear all this talk, and whenever he saw his uncle and the hobbit flit in and out of the tent he let them listen to the catalogue of ills, preferring to stroke the side of his brother’s face and whisper in his ear that he was here, watching over him.

The hobbit handed him a foul-tasting medicine to drink, and he barely even registered the bitter taste.

He took his brother’s hand, and stroked it, seeing the gold-lashed eyelids flicker through Fili’s tortured sleep.

Oin saw the metal contraption fitted to the dwarf’s swollen organ, and shook his head in disgust.

“We’ll need to sedate him, Kili. I fear it will hurt him, and rouse him from this fever if we remove it all now. And the other... _remedies_ we must give him. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Kili, but they will be upsetting for you to witness. To flush out this vile parasite from his body, before it grows any larger, will cause him a lot of pain. And we cannot know how badly he will be damaged, until the process is over.”

Kili had nodded in a daze, agreeing to everything they requested, telling them everything they needed to know about his brother’s _experiences_ , and pulling the woollen blanket tight around himself as the healers sat his brother up and poured some green liquid down his throat.

And when they were satisfied his brother’s sleep was deep enough, they poured a second potion down, one that smelled so bad that Kili felt like retching on the floor.

And then the horrors really began.

He was glad Fili slept through it. For once, his brother seemed oblivious to the brutality forced upon his helpless body, but Kili saw it all.

The fleshy red strands of the parasite, as they forced their way through his brother’s ruined penis, made him sick to his stomach. It would have been more than he could have coped with to hear his brother undergo the process wide awake, as that fiend had planned for him – and with another three weeks of growth to the hideous _thing_ inside his belly.

The thing came out in great big lumps, and Kili watched his brother’s face and hoped he would not suffer any lasting damage from this insane cruelty.

For by the end, his brother’s organ was bleeding and loose – a hideous, twisted pocket of flesh and skin with no real shape, and Kili felt himself crying at the sight of it.

He heard his voice moaning his brother’s name, and felt his uncle’s arms around him, his grey eyes filled with sympathy as they watched the abominable desecration of their kinsman’s body.

But the doctor seemed cheerful, incredibly.

Oin assured him the damage was minor, and would heal itself within a few months.

Kili couldn’t tell if the dwarf had been administering potions to himself, but he nodded dumbly as his brother was pronounced healed.

The infection he suffered would clear up within days.

The parasitical orc pregnancy would leave no lasting damage – as long as he was careful while his body repaired.

That Fili had been lucky – the elvish potion would only work against orc infestations of this kind, and only in its early stages.

His cuts and bruises were mostly minor, with no broken bones or damage to essential tissues.

Kili felt himself weeping, and lay down beside his brother on the bed, curling his own body around the sleeping blonde, and lost himself in his own world of wretched pain and dizzying relief.

And one by one, the others left him there to sleep, with his uncle murmuring soothing words in his ear, and adjusting the woollen blanket around his shoulders until he slept warm and sound beside his brother.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, set a couple of months after the rest of the story. It was a bit tricky to write (endings are always so hard to do) so I hope the tone of it is okay. There's no violence or nastiness in this chapter either - you can breath a sigh of relief! And thanks to all of you for reading what has been quite a weird little story :)

**_Some months later back in Erebor..._ **

**Fili**

There was sunshine coming through the window, as he made his way to his uncle’s study on the eastern side of the mountain.

For the first time this year, the sunlight felt _warm_ on his skin. The winter snows had all melted away, and the trees by the lake were sprouting fresh leaves and flowers.

The sight of it all gladdened his heart, and he wondered idly whether he might swim in the lake later that morning, while the water was still cool and fresh.

Whatever his uncle had summoned him for, it would surely not take long – and then he’d be free to do nothing for the rest of the day. Free to enjoy this first day of Spring.

He knocked on the door of the study, and waited for his uncle to call him inside with a familiar grunt.

Passing through the door, he found Thorin sitting at his desk, a look of concern knotting his features as he eyed up some papers in front of him.

“Fili, good morning. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, uncle. It’s a nice day. What’s wrong? You look like you’ve had some bad news– ”

Thorin smiled nervously at him, waiting for his nephew to sit down.

Since freeing him from his captivity some months ago, his uncle’s behaviour towards him seemed to have changed. It felt to Fili almost as if the dwarf king was afraid of him – or afraid of pushing too hard on him and breaking him. As if his eldest nephew and heir was now some fragile creature, who needed handling with extra care.

And it stung him more than anything else had done.

He was always careful to keep his secret nightmares to himself, and to keep the smile fixed on his face whenever the horrible memories hit him in the presence of other people.

He’d worked hard to protect the rest of them from all the painful feelings he still suffered, from the shame he still felt – from the damage he still endured.

And all he wanted in return was for them to treat him normally, and let him forget it all.

But none of them could do it.

And it felt very much to Fili that he was branded for life now. That the rest of them must look at him and see nothing but failure.

Failure to protect himself, failure to protect his brother.

And they would all think – what kind of a king could be made from such failure?

They would all judge him, and find him wanting.

He tried to school his expression and focus on his uncle’s words, despite the bleakness he felt in his heart. Thorin looked like he had something important to say, and the sooner he was free to go from here the better.

“Well, I’ve had a letter from your mother this morning – ”

Fili winced inwardly. Whatever else it was, this couldn’t be anything good.

“She wants me to _instruct_ you that – ”

His uncle broke off and made a face

“What, what’s she done?”

His uncle shook his head, staring down at the parchment in distaste.

“Well, Fili. She tells me she’s found a _beautiful_ young dwarrow in the Blue Mountains – the daughter of one of Dain’s cousins, apparently, so a lady of the court. Your mother thinks she would make an _excellent_ match for you and that it’s time that you – ”

His uncle shrugged and cleared his throat.

“I think you get the drift.”

Fili sat back in the chair, relieved all of a sudden.

“Tell her I say no.”

His uncle looked up at him and grinned.

“Are you sure you’re saying no? Sure you wouldn’t prefer to tell her yourself, maybe? If I tell her you’ve rejected her offer, you know she’ll just blame it on me for asking you wrong.”

“Okay. I’ll write to tell her that I’ve considered her proposal.”

“Good.”

“But that you talked me out of it.”

Thorin pursed his lips, and shrugged.

“She’ll be surprised, you know she will.”

The dwarf king eyed his nephew thoughtfully.

“You used to be so biddable to her every demand.”

Fili nodded, staring out of the window at the blue sky.

“I used to be a lot of things, uncle. And now – I’m not.”

He saw the concern reappear on Thorin’s face, and wondered if he’d said too much out loud.

“Fili, you... You seem different these days. You don’t talk to me as much as you used to.”

There was discomfort in the dwarf king’s voice, and his nephew found himself fidgeting in his chair, not wanting to respond to this new accusation.

“You know how much you mean to me, Fili, don’t you?”

His uncle was still gazing at him, and the younger dwarf had to look away and stare hard at the floor.

“ You know I _love_ you, don’t you Fili? You and your brother – you both mean the world to me. You do know I’m proud of you, don’t you? I’m proud of everything you’ve done. Proud of who you’ve been, proud of who you’ll become. You do know all that, don’t you?”

The younger dwarf felt the breath stick in his throat, and felt tears threatening in his eyes.

He did not want to be having this conversation, here and now.

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

“Thank you for saying, uncle. But I do know what other people think about me. I see the way they look at me – how they treat me. They think that I’m weak. That I’m... to blame, for everything that happened.”

He saw the leaves rustle on the wind outside, and met his uncle’s grey eyes head on.

“That I’m not fit to be your heir. That I’m not fit to be their king.”

“Fili,” his uncle was shaking his head, his lip trembling.

And now he was getting up from his chair – stumbling forward and coming straight towards him.

There would be no escape from it now.

“I don’t know where you get these ideas from, but what you say is not true! Nobody could think like that about you. Nobody _does_ think that about you. Everyone is proud of you, Fili. They know what you did to protect your brother, they know what it cost you. You protected him just like a king would protect his people.”

His uncle kneeled on the floor in front of him, and clasped his hand around his.

“They say that we’re lucky to have a prince such as you, and that one day you’ll make the best king we’ve ever had.”

Fili took a deep breath, and shook his head.

“But how can I rule a kingdom when I can’t even control my own mind, uncle? I can’t forget what happened. And I don’t know what I am anymore!”

He felt his uncle’s arms around him, hugging him tight, and tried to stop himself from tensing up.

“Fili, whatever you decide you are – we love you anyway. Your brother, your mother and me. You make us all proud, every day. And I couldn’t ask for a better heir than you.”

His uncle took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach you sooner. I’m sorry for what was done to you. Every day I regret it. And every night, I dream I was too late and that I didn’t save you – and it’s the same for everyone else, Fili. They were all worried, they were all scared. I know it’s nothing compared to... _what happened to you..._ but you’re not the only one who suffered. And if people are treating differently, it’s because they care about you, and don’t want to hurt you. Because they love you, Fili.”

He nodded, feeling his eyes watering up.

And to his surprise, he saw tears in his uncle’s eyes too.

“Have you talked to your brother, Fili? Have you talked about what happened with him?”

He found himself shaking his head.

“No, not at all. We don’t talk about... what happened there. I don’t think I could bear it.”

Thorin looked at him sadly.

“It’s up to you, Fili, but perhaps you should try. He’s hurting too, you know. He blames himself, more than even you do.”

His uncle shook his head.

“I hate seeing the two of you grow so distant from each other. You were always together, growing up. Always a pair. You belong together, and it’s not right you two being estranged like this.”

A dull pain was settling on his chest, and he nodded without thinking.

“I know. I’ll try, uncle.”

Thorin stood finally, and nodded.

He was about to say something else, when there came another knock on the door, and in strolled his hobbit.

“Oh I’m sorry, Fili. I thought your uncle was alone.”

The hobbit stopped in his tracks.

I’m not... _interrupting_ anything, am I?

Fili regarded his uncle’s tear-stained face, and wiped his own damp eyes with a half smile.

“No, Bilbo, it’s alright. We were done talking. I was just on my way to the lake for a swim.”

He smiled at his uncle, and saw the relief shining in those flinty grey eyes.

“It’s a nice morning, and I’ve not been swimming in ages.”

The hobbit nodded, ambling in and munching on an apple.

“Oh, really? I’ve just come from the lake. I found some winter fruit left on the trees. There’s a load of apples down by the old pier.”

Fili smiled.

“That’s where I was planning to go, Bilbo. I’ll bring you some back.”

The hobbit nodded.

“That’d be great. I saw your brother, while I was down there – he’s picking some for me too. But you know, you can never have too many apples – great for snacking on they are – ”

He stopped, aware of the pointed look Thorin was giving his nephew.

But Fili nodded slowly.

“No, that’s good. I’ll speak to Kili, and we’ll bring you back as many apples as we can find, Bilbo. I promise.”

 

______________________________________________________

**Fili**

He found his brother, waiting by the water’s edge, sitting under the shade of one of the apple trees.

The young dwarf was staring out at the lake, watching the surface of the water as it rippled in the wind, and for a second, Fili wondered if he should sneak up on him and catch him unaware like they used to do as children.

But in an instant he’d dismissed the idea.

His brother was different these days.

He didn’t like surprises anymore.

Fili marched across the grass towards the shore, and his brother didn’t seem to even hear his approach.

“Kili, I was told you were down here.”

His brother spun round at the sound of his voice, and blinked in surprise.

He made to get up.

“Fili, I was just about to go – I have things to do, back in Erebor – ”

But the blonde dwarf sat down beside him, and pushed his brother back down.

“No, you don’t. Sit here with me, Kili. Stop avoiding me.”

His brother glowered back, his big brown eyes wide and frightened.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You’ve been avoiding _me_.”

“No, I haven’t!”

Fili heard the lie at once on his own voice, and sighed.

“Okay, maybe you’re right. I _have_ been ignoring you, Kili. I’m sorry. Can we both stop ignoring each other?”

His brother eyed him suspiciously, and went back to watching the empty lake.

“Fine by me.”

The brothers stared at the blank water for a moment, and the silence surged back between them, dense and unyielding.

His brother shook his head at last.

“I’m going back to Erebor, Fili, I’m bored of sitting here.”

His brother made to get up again, and Fili felt a sudden flash of pain.

“No, please Kili. Stay here with me. Talk to me.”

His brother froze, hearing the sadness in his voice, and turned back with guilt written plain across his features.

“I’m sorry, Fili. It’s hard for me to be around you since... you know.”

But Fili shook his head.

“I don’t know, Kili. I don’t know what’s bothering you so much. Tell me, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His brother took a deep breath, and stared sullenly back at the lake.

“Since what I _did_ to you. Back in that place. I think about it all the time, every time I see you. And it makes me feel terrible.”

Fili felt his breath quicken. The thoughts were always in his head too. The memory of the pain, of the hurt, of the crazy need he’d felt for his brother.

The need he still felt for him now.

“I don’t blame you, Kili. It wasn’t your fault. It was all _their_ fault. Their games, their tricks, their threats. It wasn’t you – I know you didn’t want to...”

His brother sighed.

“They told me it would cure you, Fili. I didn’t want you to die, I didn’t want you to have to birth that _thing_.”

Fili nodded.

“I know. I was scared too, Kili.”

“I saw it come out of you, Fi.” His brother’s voice was a whisper.

“I saw what it looked like. It would have killed you, Fi. Either that or...”

The blonde dwarf swallowed thickly.

“I know, Kili. I’ve been lucky. And now the manuscript is destroyed, and nobody will ever have to suffer that again. It’s all over.”

His brother turned to him, studying his face as if trying to read his emotions.

“Fili.”

There was doubt in Kili’s voice, and he stared back out at the water, shaking his head.

“What?”

His younger brother sighed.

“Never mind.”

And Fili felt a sudden anger flare inside of him.

“No, don’t tell me to never mind, Kili. I do mind! I mind a lot! Tell me what’s on your mind!”

His brother glared at him, and shook his head.

“It’s what you said, what you keep saying – about me not being to blame. But I know I am to blame, Fili. I feel terrible.”

He shook his head, staring out at the water.

“Whatever you say, I know I wanted to do it. I should have realised they were lying to me. I should have known. But I didn’t, I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t stop because I wanted to do it, Fili. Those sick bastards made me want you like that.”

Fili swallowed, staring out to the water too.

He didn’t know what to say to Kili anymore. The silence was threatening to return again, to drown out their words and keep them apart and frightened of each other.

And all of a sudden, he recognised his fear for what it was.

And in that moment, he was more frightened of the distance growing between them than of anything else.

And he knew that there was only one thing he could say that would save them.

He would have to tell his brother the truth.

“Kili, I know. I know you wanted it. Because I wanted it too. That’s how they made _me_ feel.”

His brother looked at him, his brown eyes staring at him intently.

“What are you saying, Fili? Why are you telling me this now?”

He stared at his little brother, and saw Kili’s lower lip tremble at his gaze.

“You _know_ why, Ki. It’s how I _still_ feel.”

His voice was quiet, scared, and his brother stared back at him, and shook his head.

“But you were hurt, Fi. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’ve hurt you, I’ve messed you up. It’s my fault, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

Fili shrugged.

“Maybe not, but I still wanted it, Ki. It was the only time in that place that I forgot how awful everything was. The only time I felt safe. When we were together.”

His brother was staring at him, his face full of confusion.

“What do you want from me, Fi? Why are you telling me this? Why are you making me tell you all this?”

And this time Fili shook his head.

“Did you _enjoy_ it, Kili?”

His voice was a whisper, desperate to hear the truth.

His brother sighed.

“I felt terrible for hurting you. But it felt right. When I was with you.”

Fili nodded.

“Do you think of me like that now?”

But his brother said nothing, and stared at the ground.

The flush of colour on Kili’s cheeks told Fili everything he needed to know.

And without thinking – without questioning himself whether it was right, or wise, or fair – he reached his hand out to his brother, and clasped his hand in his own.

Kili flinched at his touch, but didn’t move away, and Fili slowly squeezed his brother’s hand.

“Look at me, Kili.”

His brother obeyed his command, and he saw the anguish there in those brown eyes. And Fili knew from the beating of his heart that it could only mirror his own nervous expression.

He needed this to stop – he needed an end to this pain for them both.

They needed each other.

He slid himself along the grass, closer to Kili, and his brother’s eyes widened.

And slowly, deliberately, he picked up his brother’s hand and placed it onto his breast, to let him feel the shuddering within his chest as his heart pounded in tension.

“Make this stop, Kili. I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

His brother seemed to shake his head, not taking his eyes off of him for a second. And without thinking, Fili found himself leaning in closer – closer to Kili – closer still to his beautiful brother’s flesh and blood.

And Kili was reaching for him too.

Their lips met, and Fili felt himself falling forwards into his brother, feeling the warmth of Kili’s lips and the soft, pleasing sensuality of their hesitant kiss, growing more urgent with every breath they shared until he realised his heart was racing and his body was aching for more.

He broke away, and whispered into Kili’s ear.

“I want to be yours again, Kili. I need you.”

His brother groaned, and the deep, guttural sound made Fili’s blood run hotter.

The sudden craving for his brother’s body was overpowering all other thoughts – and he knew Kili shared that desire too. He could feel his brother’s body starting to tremble beside him. He could feel the shuddering anticipation of Kili’s need for him through the clothes they still wore, and the heat coming from his brother’s flushed skin.

“I can’t do it, Fi.”

There was regret in his brother’s voice, and the dwarf was shaking his head.

Fili felt confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong – ?”

“It’s not you.”

Kili was still shaking his head, and looking at him with those shining brown eyes – shining full of hurt, he realised – and for a second, Fili wanted to shake his younger brother himself.

“Then what is it?”

His brother sighed.

“I want you, Fili. But I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m worried that if I do what I want – if I give you what you want – I’ll hurt you.”

Fili stared at his brother’s worried face, and felt himself smile at this baseless worry.

And with a renewed vigour, he reached his hand out to his brother’s crotch, and felt how hard and ready Kili was for him already.

Through the fabric of Kili’s trousers, he stroked at his brother’s swelling erection, and watched in satisfaction as those brown eyes snapped shut and the mouth parted slightly.

A groan escaped from Kili’s lips.

“The only way you can hurt me is by _denying_ me, Kili. I need you. You need me. Please, just give it to me.”

But his brother shook his head, moaning in frustration.

“No Fi – you don’t understand. I could make you pregnant. I... drank something I shouldn’t have. That orc witch gave it to Bilbo. And he gave it to me. I drank it while you were... _being treated_. I didn’t know what it was. But I think I do now. She drugged me, Fi. Drugged me so I couldn’t be with you again!”

He stared at his brother’s broken expression, and felt his blood cool somewhat as the horrible implications of Kili’s words sank in.

If his brother was right, then there was no way they could ever risk what they both wanted.

He stared at Kili, seeing his brother’s face tense and frightened, and felt a surge of love run through him.

Compared to everything they’d suffered through, this was nothing.

He would not give up his brother over this.

There were other ways to be together.

“Kili, do you want me or not?”

His brother heard the urgency in his voice and looked at him in surprise. And seeing his look, Fili once again reached for Kili’s body through his clothes.

His brother’s face twisted as Fili ran his finger along the length of Kili’s cock, and the younger dwarf nodded in agitation.

“You know I do.”

Fili watched his brother’s reaction, and decided to press him harder.

“And do you trust me?”

Kili gasped, powerless to do anything other than nod as his brother’s fingers teased him along.

And it was all the approval Fili would ever need.

He leant in closer to his brother – close enough that he could smell the sweat on Kili’s skin as his breath started to come quicker – and pushed him backwards onto the grass.

He’d never fucked anyone with his cock before, it was true.

But the healers predications had been right – his body had recovered physically from his ordeal, and there was nothing Fili was more glad of in the next few moments than this fact.

And judging from his cries, there was nothing his younger brother was more glad of either.

For as he felt himself pushing inside Kili’s sweating, panting, maddeningly tight young body, and felt the delicious sense of closeness and intimacy that made him want to burst with joy and cry out his brother’s name loud enough for everyone in Erebor to hear, Fili realised he didn’t even care if the others _did_ discover their relationship.

He and Kili were home at last. And nothing would ever break them apart again.

And he knew, the next time he woke in the night from some terrible dream – his brother would be there to soothe all the troubles away, to kiss him better, and hold him close and love him back until the hurt was gone for good.

And later that afternoon, after they had both finished with each other and laughed and cried by the side of the lake together for a while, the two of them returned to Erebor hand-in-hand with a bag full of sweet winter apples, and the sun shone down on them both with all the promise of Spring.

 

 


End file.
